When Insanity Calls
by luck33ang3l
Summary: -AU shonen ai- -SasoDei, KisaIta- Dumped in a mental institute, Sasori is befriended by a pyromaniac by the name of Deidara. With the help of Deidara, Sasori struggles to face the past he is so desperately trying to forget.
1. Isadale Psychiatric Hospital

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N:** Hey to any people reading this. I've had this up my sleeve for a very long time. Thought it was time for this story to face the cruel harsh world of fanfiction...

By the way, this story will be mostly told in present tense and first person. If it gets annoying or anything for me to either write or for people to read, I might change it. Please bear with me as I make the introduction. I hope this chappy isn't too confusing, because in my opinion, I think it's not totally clear. But then again, I've always been rather hard on myself...

I hope you nice people out there enjoy this. If not...well, your loss, I guess.

**Warnings: **This fanfiction may contain (mature?) material. The rating may go up later. This story contains: Profanity, Violence, Self-Harm, Attempted Suicide...etc. It may offend some people. Don't like, don't read.

**Title:**When Insanity Calls

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SASORI POV

I crack open my eyes. I see a white ceiling. My throat is dry and I feel uncomfortably stiff.

Eyes shifting from side to side, I discover my room is painted entirely white. Horribly white.

I remember. Wattle Hill, Isadale Psychiatric Hospital. I was dumped here.

I turn my head to the right, squinting as a bright light slams through my eyes. Once they had adjusted, I realise it's a window. Outside I could see a garden, complete with a sea of green grass and cherry blossom trees.

"Ah, Sasori-san, you're awake," says a cheerful voice to my left.

I turn to the offender. A young woman in a typical nurse's uniform is smiling at me. She has shoulder length, black hair and a kind expression. She held a clipboard; holding information about me, no doubt.

"How are you feeling?" she asks as she walks over to my bed. She smells faintly of jasmine.

I merely stare at her through half-lidded eyes. My tongue prises through my dry lips and I lick them, still watching the nurse.

"Would you like anything, Sasori-san?" asks the nurse.

I consider asking for a blade to finish what I started.

Instead, I ask, "Can I have a glass of water?"

She nods and tells me to wait a minute. She walks out a door to in the furthest left corner of my room. She returns a few minutes later, holding what I wanted.

I slowly pull myself up into a sitting position. Feeling stiff, I move my pillow up and lean against it. The nurse hands me the glass of water. I hold it in both hands, watching the water quiver in the glass. Then I realise _I'm _the one trembling. I try to force my muscles to still, but they seem too nervous to listen to me. I bring the glass to my lips, pressing the cool glass against them. I take a small sip.

The nurse is still waiting, the same smile plastered across her lips. An unexplainable annoyance rises in me. I hate the way she's watching me, smiling at me. It was a look of understanding, of empathy.

It makes me feel sick. My stomach squirms and suddenly, I want her to get out.

"Are you finished Sasori-san?" asks the nurse. A vicious rage grows in me.

How can she be so happy? How can she act like everything is normal when she is taking care of a suicidal patient?

I hold the glass tightly, staring at the clear liquid.

"Get out," I say in a low voice.

I feel bitter satisfaction as her infuriating smile is wiped off.

"Sasori-san, is something wrong?" she asks, concern written on her face.

"Get out," I growl. I feel hatred towards her, just that _look _she's giving me. Like she knows what I'm going through, like she _understands._ She has no right to be here.

The nurse steps forward and I lose it. I hurl the glass of water at her.

"GET OUT!" I scream. The nurse quickly ducks and the glass smashes against the wall behind her.

Droplets of water splash on to the floor and broken glass. I grip the bed sheet so hard, my knuckles turn white. Whiter than my already porcelain-like skin.

The nurse gives me a nervous look before backing out of the room. My hold on the sheet slowly loosens. I notice I am shaking even more than before. I close my eyes, breathing deeply. I shudder.

My eyes snap back open, darting to the broken glass on the floor. Excitement runs through me, my heart thudding, faster and faster. I throw back the bed sheets and almost ran to the glass. Stumbling in my eagerness, I fall to my knees barely centimetres from the largest shard.

Stretching out a trembling hand, I reach fervently for the shard.

Suddenly a warm hand grasps my thin wrist.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," commented a calm voice.

I whip my head around to glare at the person who was denying me of my prize. Another person with an annoyingly kind expression on his face looks me in the eye.

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do!" I hiss. I reach out for the shard again.

Quick as lightning, he steals the shard away from below my fingertips. I hold back a scream of frustration.

"Give it back," I say through gritted teeth.

He sighed. His fingers curl around the glass.

"I can't do that."

"Give it to me!" I snarl, launching myself at him.

I tackle him to the ground, blindly grabbing at his fist.

"Give. It. To. Me!" I howl.

Suddenly, I'm pulled back by an unseen force. My arms are grabbed and pulled behind me. I feel a painful jab in my upper left arm. Hot liquid sears through my veins.

Still struggling, I scream for the man to give me the glass. Suddenly, my body won't obey my will. I feel myself stop pushing against the restraint. Instead, I feel myself slumping and arms holding me up. Something pulls me to the bed and I try to tell them to let me go. They don't seem to hear.

Then, world blurs and darkness soars overhead, shutting me off from the world.

**

* * *

**

I wake to the sound of pattering rain. Opening my eyes, I remember what happened.

"Shit," I mumble. Now they're definitely not going to let me out.

I sit up and the world spins. I feel as though I'm about to lose consciousness. Groggily shaking my head, the world balances itself again. I turn my head to the window, puzzled to the sudden stop of rain.

In fact, the garden was spotless. And dry.

I can't remember where I am. Oh, wait. Isadale Psychiatric Hospital. Why am I here again?

I groan at my loss of memory. All I remember is a bloodied arm. And faint screaming. But that's all. Wait, I remember Grandma Chiyo. She was...wearing a purple scarf?

Suddenly, last night's events come flooding back. I remember Grandma Chiyo's frightened face and the car drive here.

Suicide. That's what I wanted to do. But why?

I frown. Hazy memories brush past. I had forgotten something. Mother and Father.

_Flash! A puddle of crimson..._

_Flash! A pool of silky black hair..._

_Flash! A scream, echoing louder and louder..._

My skin prickles. I stop thinking about it. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories away. They retreat into a dark corner. I tell myself I will never look there. I don't want to know or remember.

In the meantime, I had to get out of here. I think through my options. A grand escape? Maybe a blind charge through the building. Or just wait it out?

I decide to wait until they officially release me. I don't plan on coming back. I make a mental note to act normal.

Hearing footsteps click against the floor, I swiftly lay back down, pretending to be asleep.

I hear the door swing open and quiet footsteps approach me. They stop at my bed and I feel the presence. The person smells faintly of jasmine.

"I'm sorry for throwing the glass at you." I keep my eyes closed. Normal, think normal.

"That's okay Sasori-san. Don't worry about it," she replies. I can almost hear her smile.

"I'm not worrying. And don't smile so much. You'll get wrinkles."

"That was nice of you to tell me."

I can't tell if she were being sarcastic or not. I remain silent.

"Lunch is in five minutes," says the nurse.

"I'm not hungry," I immediately reply.

"That's what they all say. But it sure beats being fed through a tube."

I open my eyes. She is smiling at me.

"Do you really want to look like an 80 year old woman?"

She drops the smile, but the edge of her lips keeps twitching.

"Besides, it's a great time to meet the other patients."

_Other patients?_

I sit up again and slide off the edge of the bed. I see that the broken glass has been cleaned up. I glance at the nurse.

"How long was I out?"

"About three hours," she answers, cheerfully.

Suddenly, her watch starts beeping.

"Oh, I've got to go. I'm sure you can find your way around, Sasori-san. See you later!" the nurse calls as she walks out the door.

I stand there, not sure what to do. Then, outside the door, I caught sight of strange thing. It seemed to be a swirly, orange mask, the swirls concentrating onto the right eye. It is peering into the room, the rest of the object hidden behind the wall.

"Are you the new patient?" asks the mask, timidly.

Well look at that. The swirl-face speaks.

"Maybe."

The rest of the thing appears and by now, I suspect it's a patient. I look over him and notice he has black hair poking up from behind the mask. He is wearing a white shirt and plain, blue jeans.

"Hiya, I'm Tobi. What's your name?" the boy chirps.

I stare at him. Wasn't he supposed to have a messed up disorder or something?

Tobi waits patiently.

"I'm Sasori. Akasuna Sasori," I finally say.

"Nice to meet you. Are you coming to lunch?" asks Tobi happily.

"...Yes." Why was everyone so happy? This is a mental institute, not a playgroup for teenagers.

"Do you need me to show you?" he asks eagerly.

"Unfortunately, yes," I mutter.

"Okay, Sasori-san!"

Tobi bounds away to the left of my door. I quickly walk out the door, about to follow him when I see an even stranger person than Tobi, walking in the direction Tobi went.

The person seems to be talking to himself. But what is even stranger is his appearance. He is half black and half white with green hair. I stare, wide-eyed as he walks past me, muttering to himself, his voice continuously changing from deep to placid.

The boy stops. He looks back over his white shoulder at me.

I stare back at him. He turns to face me.

"Hello," says the boy in a calm tone. "I heard there was a new patient around."

The boy's voice suddenly changes. _"You look tasty."_

What the hell?

_"But I won't eat you," _continues the boy._ "Tsunade-sama said that it wasn't nice to eat people." _

"I'm Zetsu." The voice has changed back into a placid tone.

"Akasuna Sasori."

Zetsu nods. "You might want to change clothes before you go to lunch."

He turns back to the direction of the lunch area and starts to talk to himself again.

_"I still say I should eat Naruto for what he did yesterday," _argues Zetsu.

"But then Tsunade-sama won't be very happy," responds Zetsu.

I stare before looking down at my clothes. I flush as I realise I'm wearing a hospital gown.

_Flash_

_"You're what?!" I spi__n around to meet my grandmother angrily._

_"I'm leaving you here until you get better," says Grandma Chiyo, calmly._

_"You can't just leave me here!" I shout._

_The receptionist stares at the scene. __She picks up the phone and dials several numbers._

_"You have no bloody right to just dump me in a mental institute!" I yell._

_"What you did was very serious; I don't want it to happen again."_

_"No!" I make a break for the door._

_Someone grabs__ my wrist and pulls it down, forcing me to bend forward. I feel a syringe jab my upper arm and a hot liquid thread__s__ through my veins._

_I fall, my eyelids drooping. I vaguely see Grandma bend down to kiss me on the cheek._

_Then I seem__ed__ to be watching the world underwater. __I felt myself being carried up a case of stairs and dumped on a bed. I was barely aware of someone tugging off my clothes and dressing me in a hospital gown. _

_They tucked me in bed like a child. __I couldn't move but I could hear them talking. _

_Suicide._

_They were talking about suicide and how close I had come to achieving that. I felt a small surge of pride._

_Then they left the room, cast it into darkness and left me laying there. _

I hurry back into my white room, heading to the wardrobe. I grab a pair of worn jeans and a shirt. Looking around the room, I see no bathroom. That was obviously too risky for a suicidal patient. I close the door and curse when I find no lock. There was just no privacy for a suicidal patient. Talk about injustice.

With my back against the door, I tug off the hospital gown, tossing it on the floor. In shock, I realise I am not wearing anything under the gown. I feel my face burning with heat.

Who the hell undressed me last night?

Gritting my teeth, I quickly went back to the wardrobe to grab a pair of boxers.

"Sasori-san? I didn't realise I went too far..." Tobi's voice fades out.

"Shit!" I curse. Tobi appears to be frozen.

"Close your eyes and turn around!" I snap at Tobi, feeling my face go red.

"Y-yes!" Tobi spun around. "I'll wait outside, Sasori-san."

I heard him leave and close the door quickly. I pull on my boxers hastily and then my jeans. Tugging my shirt on, I notice the white gauze bandage wrapped around the length of my arm. There was also a white band encircling my right wrist. My name is on it.

Akasuna Sasori.

I shrug on a jacket to cover up the scars and avoid annoying questions. I open the door and find Tobi nervously waiting for me. I say nothing, though my face begins to heat up again. We stand there for a moment.

"I'm really sorry," squeaks Tobi.

"Forget it," I say gruffly. "Are you going to show me the way or not?"

**

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**

I enter a large room painted in soft shades of blue. The ceiling – what a surprise – is white. Pictures of pink and yellow frangipanis hang on the walls. Several round dining tables were scattered across the room. A light breeze drifts in through large open windows, making the blue tablecloths flutter. Outside I can see the garden, an array of pink, green and light brown.

I thank Tobi and move to a table near a window. I sit down on one of the chairs and look out the window. I see a faint reflection of myself – a pale face with dishevelled red hair. And hollow eyes.

"I haven't seen you before, un," comments a voice.

"Akasuna Sasori," I say flatly, not bothering to look at the speaker. Maybe I should just wear a nametag?

"Not happy, un?" asks the person. I hear a chair scrape the floor and the person sit down.

I sigh and turn to the speaker. I stare. The person has long blonde hair, a long bang covering the left eye and a ponytail tied with a stiff, red ribbon on the top of his head. The person is dressed in three-quarter length black pants and a pale yellow shirt. Strangely, the person wears think, black gloves. The person looks normal enough – dare I say _pretty - _except for the fact that I can't figure out his or her gender.

"Are you a girl or boy?"

"I'm a boy!" cries the person indignantly.

I look closer. Oh, he does seem like a boy after all, he seems to be missing several girly parts.

"My mistake," I say nonchalantly.

"Damn right, your mistake, un!"

"Is it my fault you look like a girl?" I sneer. I cross my arms over my chest.

The boy turns away in a huff.

I sniff and turn back to the window.

"You're the new guy right?" asks yet another voice.

Frustrated, I sigh heavily.

"What do you want?" I snap turning again to face the source of the voice,

A young boy is standing there looking hurt. He has short blonde hair and cerulean eyes. He wears an orange jumpsuit and has strange scars on his face.

"That wasn't very nice. I was only trying to be friendly," pouts the boy.

"Do I look like I need your friendliness?" I ask irritably.

He ignores me. "What's your name? I'm Naruto."

"Grumpy, un," mutters the other blonde boy sourly.

"Don't tell me he thought you were a girl, Deidara," sniggers Naruto.

The blonde called Deidara scowls darkly.

"I've told you thousands of times to cut your hair. It's just too long for a girly looking guy like you," snorts Naruto.

"...I like my hair long," sulks Deidara. "Itachi has long hair too, un."

"Yeah, but he doesn't look as girly as you," retorts Naruto.

I watch the two blondes argue, wondering what on earth I had done to deserve this.

I watch as another person with long, dark brown hair walks past our table. Except this person look like a male. He sits at a table at the other end of the room, staring into space. I see that he has freakishly white eyes.

"That's Neji, un," says Deidara, interrupting my thoughts.

I turn to Deidara. "What's he here for?"

Naruto answers me. "Tried to kill his cousin, I think."

I glance out to Neji again. He looks the same, staring into space.

"He doesn't talk very much. He seems to like Naruto though. Can't see why, un," sniffs Deidara.

Naruto smacks Deidara over the head.

"Ow! You little- "

"Who's that?" I ask, cutting Deidara off. I nod to the hallway I came through.

I watch the redheaded boy look around the room. He's wearing black eyeliner around his eyes and has the kanji for love on his forehead.

"Who, Gaara?" asks Deidara. He grins smugly at Naruto who is rubbing his head with a scowl on his face.

"If you're talking about the redhead."

"You should stay away from him. He's, uh, not stable, un."

I raise an eyebrow. "Isn't that why we're all here?"

Deidara shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"He does strange things. I think he's a psychopath. He's insane – he claims to hear a voice telling him to kill people, un," whispers Deidara.

I frown. This place didn't seem so safe after all.

"What are you here for?" I ask the blondes. Safety has suddenly become a major issue.

"I'm a pyromaniac," says Deidara proudly.

"Pryomaniac?"

"Pyromaniac," corrects Deidara. "Means I like fire, explosions, that kind of thing. That's what I understand of it."

"That doesn't sound horrifyingly bad."

Deidara shrugs.

I turn to Naruto. He scratches the back of his head looking embarrassed.

"I've got a DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder. Violent split personality."

"Must be bad to land you in the loony bin."

"Yeah, it is I guess. I can't control it, so it's kinda dangerous." Naruto pulls a face. "Deidara here hasn't seen me change yet. He's only been here two months."

"Better two months than 2 years, un,"

"Two years?" I ask incredulously.

"Yeah. It's not that bad, seriously." Naruto gives a half-smile.

"You misunderstood me. My chances of getting out are currently next to minus one," I say miserably.

"Why are you here, un?" asks Deidara curiously.

"I am apparently suicidal," I say shortly. I don't elaborate.

They don't push the matter. There is silence among us. I turn to look out the window again.

I hear a chair scrape the floor and footsteps walking away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Naruto wave to Deidara as he moves to another table.

I zone out from the rest of the room, everything fades to a distant blur.

I watch the cherry blossom trees, wondering vaguely why they were considered safe for a mental institute. Someone could easily impale themselves on one of the spindly branches. Or choke on a handful of flowers. I hear a clatter next to me. I snap out of my daze and turn to glare at the person who disturbed me.

A black haired boy is standing next to me, calmly setting out glasses and cutlery from a trolley behind him. Plastic glasses and cutlery. It looks as if there are three places. He sets out three plates of food, before taking the trolley away.

I stare at the food. It didn't look very appetizing, more like mushy goo. I pick up a plastic fork and poke it experimentally, just in case it's alive. It wobbles slightly.

"Do you mind if I eat here today?" asks a monotonous voice.

I start. It's the black haired boy. I didn't hear him coming.

Deidara waves a 'no'.

The boy looks to me. I look over him closely. His long black hair is tied back simply, his face somewhat handsome. He wears a half-sleeved fishnet under a loose black shirt and long black pants.

"Hi," he offers.

"Akasuna Sasori." I don't bother to be polite.

"Uchiha Itachi," he replies, scrutinizing me with coal black eyes. I notice they seem to have a red tinge to them.

"So when's the funeral?" I sneer at his outfit.

"How soon can you die?" he retorts.

"Now that's a great thing to say to a suicidal patient," I snort.

"Are you now?" Itachi looks interested.

I curse under my breath.

Deidara spoke up. "He is, un!"

Itachi tilts his head. "How so?"

Deidara shrugs. "He didn't say how, un." He starts to eat his food slowly.

Itachi eyes me. "Going to share?"

I give him a dark glare in reply. I face my food and copy Deidara until my plate is empty.

**

* * *

**

After lunch, we are told that group therapy will be in half an hour. Until then, we are free to do as we like. Well, as free as you can be in a mental institute.

Still in the cafeteria, I move listlessly to a sliding glass door. Most of the other patients move back down the hall to their rooms. I open it and to my surprise, nobody stops me. I walk outside, feeling a light breeze catch my hair, ruffling it.

I move to a cherry blossom tree near a brick wall that seems to encircle the place. It sits on a gentle hill that is littered with cherry blossom petals. I lay down on the green grass to the right of the tree, arms behind my neck.

I stare up, pink cherry blossoms framed with the azure sky.

_Life wasn't actually so bad__ like this_, I contemplate.

I close my eyes, enjoying the silence.

**

* * *

**

I stare at the man in charge of the group therapy. He is standing inside the room with the sign saying 'Group Therapy.' It's the same man who stole my shard of glass.

This time though, my mind is not full of rage and I can study him properly. He has dark brown hair, pulled back into a spiky ponytail. His annoyingly kind expression is set in place and I see that he has a long scar across his nose. His clip-on name tag reads _Umino Iruka._

Pin-on nametags are dangerous too, I guess. Some patient hell-bent on suicide might snatch it away and stick it into their throat. And if they miss the artery, they could always hope to die of tetanus.

Or maybe somebody had stolen a pin-on nametag and swiped it across Iruka's nose.

Iruka gestures to the circle of chairs where some people are already situated.

"Welcome, Sasori-san," smiles Iruka.

"Don't smile," I tell him as I walk past.

I choose a chair on the far side of the room, shooting dark looks at anyone who looks like they're about to sit next to me.

Unfortunately, this doesn't deter an annoying blonde by the name of Deidara.

"Hello, un!" he says happily, plopping down on my right.

Crap. He seems to be in an obnoxiously happy mood.

I don't answer, sending out what I hope to be waves of hostility. I glare at my shoes.

"Hello," says a dull voice.

I look up. "What do you want?"

Instantly, I'm wary. It's Gaara standing in front of me.

Gaara looks mildly confused at my tone. "Nothing much..."

"Whatever."

"...But Mother wants to know if you were the one screaming this morning," continues Gaara.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Deidara sitting rigidly, casting nervous glances at me and Gaara. I am somewhat embarrassed at the 'screaming' part.

"Maybe. Yes."

Gaara pauses. He seems to be thinking deeply.

"In that case, she wants your blood dripping through my fingers, your mangled limbs in my room and your head mounted at the end of my bed," recited Gaara in a bored tone.

"What the hell?" I say, leaning away from the eyeliner-wearing freak.

"Wait. Oh, and she also wants me to use the rest of your blood in my next bath."

Deidara lets out a small, nervous noise. It sounded dangerously like a chuckle.

Gaara turns to him. "Mother says not to laugh or _you'll_ be the victim instead of _him_."

Deidara gives a small whimper. His hands grip the chair tightly, as if Gaara is about to rip him in half.

Gaara turns back to me, an eerie smile breaking out on his face.

I can't figure out if I should be frightened or happy at the smile.

Luckily, he sees more people come in and he himself moves to find a seat.

I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. I hear Deidara do the same similarly.

"I told you so, un!" says Deidara, voice slightly shaking.

"Told me what? I'm not scared." I seem to have regained my calm.

"You don't care that he might suddenly rip you from limb to limb because a non-existent voice tells him to?!" Deidara almost shrieks.

"I'm a suicidal patient. I supposedly want to die," I remind him calmly. Though that might be kinda painful...

"Fine, you're officially crazy, un," says Deidara in disgust.

"Wow. Official. I thought I already was. Being in a mental institute and all that," I say mildly.

"That was just a premonition, un," replies Deidara. "Now it's official. And I think you'll be here for a long time, un."

"Well, you think wrong," I retort. "I have no plans of staying here."

"Hmph."

The buzz of chatter takes over until Iruka comes to the circle from the door.

"Hello everybody," greets Iruka.

Mumbled replies are voiced.

"Today we have a new person with us," says Iruka. "I'd like to introduce Akasuna Sasori."

I sink in my seat. Damn, this is embarrassing.

"We've met!" pipes a happy voice. I recognise Naruto's voice.

"That's great," says Iruka. "Why don't we all introduce ourselves? Start with your name and something you like."

Iruka looks around for a starting volunteer. Nobody looks interested.

"Neji-san? Why don't you start?"

Neji turns his freakishly white eyes to me. I wonder if he's blind.

"I'm Hyuuga Neji. I am not blind," says Neji, boredom ringing in his voice.

Iruka frowns slightly. "Why don't you tell us something you like?"

"I'd like to see my cousin dead."

"Don't say that Neji," scolds Iruka. "Is there anything else you like?"

Neji half shrugs. Iruka sighs. "Next."

A black haired boy shifts in his seat. He looks strangely like Itachi. He even wears black clothing, albeit with a dark blue jacket. I can't help but think his hair looks rather like a bird.

"Uchiha Sasuke. I hate my brother," says Sasuke, face as hard as stone.

I guess they're brothers then.

"Something you _like_," reprimands Iruka.

Sasuke shrugs. "Tomatoes?"

"Great." Iruka seems happy that someone is contributing properly. "Next."

"I'm Zetsu," says the boy I met earlier. _"I like...plants."_

Iruka nods. "Next."

"Sabaku Gaara. Mother gives her greetings too."

Zetsu looks at Gaara with interest. "_Is she still hungry?_"

"Yes. But I'm not obeying her today."

"Anything you like? Something appropriate please," says Iruka.

"...Blood."

"_Appropriate, _please," says Iruka in an annoyed tone.

"...Sand."

"Er...very nice, Gaara-san." Iruka gives a strained smile.

"Is it my turn Iruka-san?" asks Tobi eagerly.

Iruka smiles and nods.

"Hi! I'm Tobi. We met before remember? When I...er..." Tobi breaks off looking embarrassed.

I'm sure my own face is burning.

"...er...I...took you to the cafeteria!" says Tobi, finally finding something not remotely embarrassing. "I like my teddy bear!"

There are several snickers at this.

Deidara nudges me. "Hey, why are you blushing, un?"

I scowl at him.

"Next!"

"Hey! I'm Uzumaki Naruto! We talked in the cafeteria. I like...practical jokes, I guess." Naruto smiles widely at me.

"_I will eat you one day,"_ threatens Zetsu. "My flower still hasn't gone back to her normal colour."

Iruka smiles fondly at Naruto. "Next."

"Deidara, un," says Deidara.

"And you like?" prompted Iruka.

"Art!" says Deidara enthusiastically.

"Really?" I ask, a little surprised. I didn't think we'd have anything in common.

"Yep! Art is a bang, un!"

"Right..." I trail off.

"I'll show you after this! You'll love it, un!" exclaims Deidara excitedly

Somehow, I don't think I will.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Deidara-san," says Iruka.

"What? Why not?" whines Deidara.

"The last time you created an explosion was a complete disaster."

Deidara's face fell. Then it became an expression of glee.

"Tsunade-sama got so mad, un!" says Deidara.

Iruka shakes his head. "Not to mention the cost of repairing the wall."

Deidara giggles happily.

Iruka nods. "Your turn."

"Akasuna Sasori. I like art too."

Iruka mutters something under his breath.

"You like art?" Deidara perks back up.

"Yes. I like my puppets."

Deidara snorts. "Puppets? What kind of messed up art is that, un?"

I glare daggers at him. "Minimal damage art. Lasts longer too."

Deidara scowls. "Art isn't meant to stick around. It's supposed to be a fleeting beauty, something that only ever happens once, un."

"Then who's going to enjoy it? It's meant to last all of eternity. True art is something that endures the trial of time and is left for the future to enjoy," I argue.

"That's stupid. Anyone can do that, un. It's boring art."

"It's better than blowing shit up, brat."

"It's not blowing shit up! It's blowing beauty up! As a true artist, I make things even more beautiful. And I'm not a brat, un!"

"Why the hell would anyone blow beauty up?" I sneer. "It's already beautiful."

"To make it even more beautiful, dumbass."

"But then it's not there anymore, brat."

"I'm not a brat, un! You're younger than me, idiot!

I bristle with anger. I absolutely cannot be younger than this idiot. I refuse!

"I'm older than you, brat," I growl.

"You look like you're 14, un," was the smug reply.

"What?! I'm 16!" I protest.

"You're what, un?!" Deidara looks shocked.

I look around the room. Most of the people look mildly surprised.

Oh, come on. I mean, I don't look that young do I?

"Why do you look all so surprised?" I snap irritably.

"You don't look 16," says Tobi solemnly.

"Well screw that," I retort.

Silence. Awkward silence.

"Well...time is almost up," says Iruka finally. "Does anyone else want to say anything?"

"Yes." I try to shoot a glare at everyone at the same time. Rather difficult when there are eight people. "How old is everyone else?"

"I'm 15!" says Tobi.

"13," says Naruto.

"16," says Zetsu, unconcernedly.

"14," says Neji.

Sasuke glares at me. "You sat next to my brother at lunch, didn't you?!"

I ignore him.

"13," says Gaara, indifferently.

"Sasuke-san is 13!" Tobi said helpfully.

Sasuke glares darkly at Tobi.

I turn expectantly to Deidara. He does not look happy. I smirk.

"...15...un," he eventually says grudgingly.

I let my smirk widen in a nasty smile.

"...Well, it looks like you'll be brat from now on."

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**A/N: **So how was the first chappy? I have great plans for this thing...

Will update when in the mood. Already have second chapter but lacks motivation to edit and post. The woes of being a procrastinator.

Please review, it would make me very happy! (You are concerned for my happiness aren't you? Maybe just a little??) Suggestions are greatly appreciated.


	2. Scars of the Past

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N:** I am so happy for this fanfiction. The response I got was huge. Well, according to me anyway. Eight reviews in four days. Wow. You all make me melt into a puddle of joy. Albeit, a puddle of joy that can type. I would like reviewers to keep reviewing as much as they would consider untroublesome. It's great encouragement. It'll also tell me I'm not alone and that the story hasn't been given up on.

Anyway, here's the second chapter. I don't think it meets up to the standards of the previous chap but that's probably my negative conscience. It is shorter though. Oh well.

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, blood, scars, cutting...etc

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SASORI POV

We file out of the room in a single line. Only Tobi is talking. Zetsu doesn't seem to be paying much attention to him though. Right now, I am wondering what happens. I shuffle along the hallway in the vague direction of the cafeteria. Or at least, that's where I think I'm going.

I am suddenly aware that I am alone. I shrug to myself. I like being alone.

...Except when I seem to be lost.

"Crap," I mutter.

I look to the left and right, trying to find something I recognise.The place is deserted. Feeling frustrated, I walk over to the left side of the hallway and sit down against the wall. I decide to wait for someone to find me.

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I yawn. I have no idea how long I've been waiting. It seems like hours. I can't help but be slightly disappointed that no one has come looking for me yet. I can't decide whether to try and find my own way out or wait for someone to find me. Sighing, I absentmindedly push up the sleeves of my jacket. I notice the bandage with interest. 

Resting the bandaged arm in my lap, I start to undo the dressing. Slowly, the reason of my incarceration is revealed. I stare in morbid awe of the long scar stretching up my forearm; all nice and stitched together. It was so long! Maybe I really was trying to kill myself. I push the wound hard.

Shit, it hurts!

I wince as the angry slash throbs. But it makes me feel slightly better. The sharp pain reminds me I am alive. It reminds me how tough I am. I can cut myself willingly. With knives, razors, long scissors...whatever I can think of. Not everyone can do that.

I study the scar. The reddish skin proudly sports a long strip of dull red. I feel the itching urge to rip off the scab and scratch at my arm until I am satisfied I will bleed to death. I quickly rewrap the dressing on the wound. Instead, I rest the other arm on my lap. A line of evenly spaced stripes lay there. I examine each of my much smaller cuts with regular interest. I know each of their stories. They are all unique. Okay, I guess they'd all tell pretty much the same kind of story. Most of them are fairly old though. One or two are about 5 to 6 days old.

I run my fingers over the ridges, bumpy, smooth, bumpy, smooth...

"There you are, un!" exclaims a relieved voice.

Quick as a flash, I yank my sleeves down again. I glare viciously at him.

"You took your bloody time."

Deidara looks offended. "If I were you, I'd appreciate the fact that I've been found, un."

"Good thing you're not me then."

Deidara scoffs. "I wouldn't be here if the nurses hadn't gone into panic mode because you went missing, un."

"Do I look like I care?"

"Well you would if the nurses found you instead of me, un."

"And why's that, brat?"

Deidara scowls in annoyance. "Because they would've put you under so much medication that you wouldn't wake up for the next couple of weeks."

I snort.

"I think they did that to me a couple of times, un," adds Deidara, thoughtfully.

I stand up abruptly. "Let's go. You've kept me waiting long enough."

"What? No 'thank you'?" asks Deidara in mock disappointment.

"You don't deserve it," was my curt reply.

We walk along the hallway, turning around a corner. At the end of the corridor, I am happy to recognise the cafeteria. That means my room must be nearby. To the near left, I see a room with a brass plaque on the door. Akasuna Sasori is inscribed on it. I walk to the door, placing a hand on the door knob. I will for Deidara to go away. Instead, he patiently waits for me to open the door. Sighing, I turn to face him.

"Can't you see I want to be alone now?" I snap at him.

"No, not really, un," replies Deidara cheerfully.

Growling in exasperation, I open the door and rush inside, hoping Deidara isn't fast enough to slip through. He nimbly slithers in just before the door closes.

He glances around the room. "This is plain, un."

I roll my eyes. "It's white, brat."

"Stop calling me that, un. You make me sound like a little child," pouts Deidara.

"You are a little child."

Deidara huffs. He suddenly springs over to my wardrobe, throwing open the doors.

"Hey! Leave my clothes alone!"

He giggles, head hidden from sight as he digs through my items of clothing.

I storm over to him, jerking him out and slamming the doors shut.

I grab the pair of socks in his gloved hand and swiftly stuff it back in the wardrobe.

I look around to see Deidara lying on my bed.

"Hey, I have to sleep in that you know."

"With me?" Deidara turns to me, a wicked smile on his face.

I shove him off the bed. "Don't be stupid."

He yelps as he lands on the floor, hard. His head pops up. I have taken over the bed, sitting against the pillows.

"That was mean, un," moans Deidara.

"Who said I was nice?" I say disdainfully. "Are you going to get out now?"

Deidara hops on to the bed, dipping it in his direction. He sits cross-legged, staring intensely at me.

I feel uneasy, as though I am being studied. "What the hell are you staring at?"

"You don't seem like a suicidal patient," Deidara finally says.

"What?"

"I thought you would be different. Not so...normal, un," says Deidara carefully.

I snort. "Anything to get out of the nuthouse. The things we do for freedom."

"Oh." Deidara looks as if he finally gets it.

"We are constantly being monitored right?" I ask.

"Yeah. Makes me feel like a lab rat, un," remarks Deidara.

"Then, they're obviously not going to let me out if I look even the smallest bit suicidal, are they?"

"Un."

"So I'll pretend that I love life and I have absolutely no thoughts of suicide. Not that I was in the first place."

Deidara cocks his head, reminding me of an overgrown bird. "Good luck, un."

"I don't need your good luck."

"Yes you do. Especially since Itachi just heard what you said, un." Deidara points to the doorframe, where Itachi is leaning, a smirk on his lips.

I let loose a string of profanity. Deidara laughs. Itachi walks to the bed, waiting for me to finish.

"Damn you," I snarl at Itachi. The small, rational part of my brain tries to tell me it was my own fault.

"Not my fault."

I growl at him, falling into silent fuming. Deidara shrugs at Itachi. Suddenly Deidara brightens.

"Do you want to see my art, un?" asks Deidara excitedly. He bounces on the bed.

"Stop bouncing."

Obediently, Deidara stops. He gazes hopefully at me.

I sigh. "I thought Iruka said no."

"It'll only be a tiny one, un." He emphasized on tiny, holding his index finger and thumb millimetres away from each other.

Itachi snorts softly. "Your explosions are never small, Deidara."

"Maybe another time." I secretly hope that I will never see one.

Deidara looks downcast. "Why not now?"

"Because I don't feel like it."

We lapse back into silence. Itachi sits on the edge of the bed. I glare as the bed dips down to his side. I draw my legs up, hugging them close. The sleeves of my jacket slide up my arms a little.

"What's that, un?" asks Deidara suddenly. He leans forward, peering at my left arm.

I immediately pull my sleeves back down, but it's too late. Deidara has seen my bandage.

He pulls back, staring at me in surprise. "I didn't know that you cut."

I don't bother to correct him. Partially because I _do _cut.

Itachi shakes his head. "That's not a normal cut Deidara."

"Un? What is it then?" asks Deidara. He glances back and forth between me and Itachi.

"Its evidence of a suicide attempt," answers Itachi evenly.

Deidara gives a soft 'oh' of realization. I stare at the bed sheets, wishing I could disappear. I don't know why though. I have nothing to be embarrassed of. It wasn't meant for suicide.

"...Can I see, un?" asks Deidara tentatively.

"No," I snap. I pull my arms in, hiding them behind my legs. What kind of question is that?

"You cut too, don't you?" asks Itachi quietly. I look up and realize he saw the cuts on the other arm.

"Nothing escapes you, does it?" I ask wryly.

Itachi shakes his head. "Why do you do that?"

"Why the hell do you want to know?" I spit.

"Curiosity."

"What kind of a reason is that?" I ask venomously.

"I'm curious too, un," says Deidara suddenly.

I say nothing.

"I've never met anyone who cuts before, un," continues Deidara.

I feel myself slowly gathering anger.

"I mean, it's kind of weird isn't it? I heard people who cut are depressed or something?" Deidara turns to Itachi for confirmation. He shrugs.

The anger builds up, bubbling beneath the surface.

"Or maybe it's for attention, un," adds Deidara.

I crack. "Look, what the hell are you getting at? What's your bloody point?"

Deidara looks taken aback. "I didn't mean to offend you or- "

"So why are you yapping on about it?" I ask viciously, interrupting him.

He is quiet but I can still see him eying my arms. It's the same with Itachi, but it's more subtle. I heave a sigh. I suddenly don't care about it anymore. If they think I'm a freak, then they should _know _I'm a freak. I push up my sleeves and hold out my arms, one neatly bandaged and the other with even scars. I glare at them defiantly.

"Go on. Stare to your satisfaction. Laugh, scream, run away, do whatever you want. I don't care."

They both look a little embarrassed. Like I am showing a deep part of me that should remain hidden.

"You...did that to yourself?" whispers Deidara, staring at the red scars and gashes on my right arm.

I let out a hollow laugh. "Do you think I asked someone to do this to me?"

Itachi is silent. But I can tell he is uncomfortable.

"But...why...do you..." Deidara trails off hesitantly.

I shrug, feeling hollow. "That's for the therapist to figure out."

_Flash!_

_I run blindly in the direction of the bathroom. Tears are blurring my vision__. Rushing__ into the bathroom and slamming the door shut, locking it. I lean against the cool, tiled wall sliding down the smooth__ surface. Sobbing, I curl up, wiping my eyes roughly with the heel of my hands. _

_Tears keep falling. __They splash __against the cold floor. _

_I hear my parents shouting again. I cover my ears in an attempt to block out the noise. I shudder as I hear my father roar and my mother shriek. I feel the wall shake as my father storms up the stairs.__The glass vase on the shelf in the bathroom falls and smashes. The pieces scatter across the floor and I flinch as a large shard lands close to me._

_I can hear soft sobbing downstairs. _

_I hesitantly reach for the broken glass. I hold it, just staring. It seems to lure me, tempting me with an escape from a pain I can't deal with. __I just hold it. Hesitantly, I move the sharp edge to the soft flesh of my forearm.__I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't feel like I'm in control, I act on impulse, __instinct._

_In an instant, I have slashed my wrist. I know it wasn't deep but that didn't stop it from hurting like hell. _

_I bite my lip, watching the blood seep out, red droplets that join together to form a crimson line. The blood gathers in one spot and then rolls off, leaving a trail of red. There is something peaceful about watching the scarlet liquid trickle down my elbow.__And I know I can deal with it. Everything else has been wiped away, leaving me, my blood and the pain of the cut. _

_The droplet splashes to the ground, joining tears and bits of dust. Another drop follows it.__I stand up slowly, holding my arm out like an offering. I rip off some toilet paper and hold it to the wound. The blood soaks through. Fascinated, I add more and more toilet paper until the flow stops.__I stand there for a while, unaware of anything other than the dulling pain and the smell of the blood._

_Suddenly, I look around the room as though I finally recognise where I am. I begin to clean up the bathroom, leaving no evidence of what had happened. The glass is thrown away, the blood and tears wiped up. _

_But I keep the shard I used. _

I shake my head, trying to clear it of the past memory. That had been a long time ago. My first cut, age 12. I start to pull my sleeves back down. I feel as though I had just made a big mistake. I had just bared my soul to almost strangers. I notice Deidara. He stares at the bandaged arm.

"What? You want to see this as well?" I ask mockingly. Warm recklessness rushes through me.

Deidara looks ashamed.

"Don't worry. I'll show you," I say reassuringly. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I want to see the disgust on his face like I know he is feeling now.

I unwrap the bandage and thrust my arm in front of him.

"Look at it. Look at its ugliness. Look at what I did to myself," I hiss.

Deidara gazes at it. I will him to say something. Anything.

"Do you like it? Are you satisfied now?" I spit.

Deidara looks up, startled. He doesn't know what to say. I start to rewrap the bandage.

"What else do you want now? Hmm? What else do I need to show you, so you're satisfied?!" I ask, angrily.

Deidara shakes his head, hesitantly.

"Do I need to show you the rest of me? Will that make you happy?!" I finally shout.

Deidara is shaking his head frantically now, fear in his eyes.

"What do you want? My soul? Well how's this? I've already shown you my soul. I've shown you everything about me. It's in all of these scars. My whole life story. Are you happy now?!" I demand.

Itachi and Deidara are just frozen.

"What more could you want of me?!" I shout. I launch myself off the bed.

I don't know what I'm doing. I am only numbly aware of what is happening around me. Like I've separated from my body and my mind has retreated to a far corner. I make for the door. A cold hand grasps my wrist, firmly pulling me back.

"Let me go!" I demand.

Itachi does nothing; he just sits on the bed, his slender fingers holding my wrist.

"Let me go," I repeat in a strained voice.

He shakes his head. Itachi pulls on my wrist gently, motioning for me to sit down.

I try to jerk my arm back, struggling when the grip refuses to let go. I struggle uselessly for a few minutes before realising its futile. His grip is like iron. Hot anger floods through me again. I grab his hand with my other hand and try to pry him off. His other hand swipes at my mine and I swiftly move it out of reach.

"Let me go, you fucking bastard!" I hiss.

He remains stoic, red tinged eyes passive as he regards me.

I push forward against him, trying to reach his throat. Frustration builds as he seems to hold his ground, though he is struggling to stay like that. Suddenly, my free hand comes in contact with a soft, warm flesh. Triumphant, I try to push him back, pressing down on the throat. His other hand grabs my mine, holding it back from completely choking him. My heart is beating faster and faster, a sick kind of excitement.

"Stop!" I hear Deidara's scared voice in the background.

Itachi draws in a shallow breath and I begin to squeeze. My blunt nails dig into the soft flesh.

"Sasori, please stop!" cries Deidara, helplessly watching in fear.

Suddenly Itachi starts to push himself back up, a soft noise of discomfort escapes his lips. I can see I am losing ground. I let go of his throat, but he has now captured my free hand. Enraged, I pull back and throw myself at him, hoping to catch him off guard so he releases my hand. He cleverly swerves to the side, but has to let go of my wrists. I crash into Deidara and he is pushed off the bed for the second time along with me. We fall in a tangled heap of bodies and limbs. I grunt as a gloved hand collides with my face. Deidara yelps as my elbow digs into his ribs.

Itachi peers over the side with faint amusement. There is a dull red mark on his neck. I feel my heart calm down, like when a storm has passed.

"Get off of me, brat," I grunt, smothered underneath Deidara.

Deidara squeaks as my elbow almost jabs out his eye. I squirm out from under Deidara and pull myself up into a sitting position. Glaring furiously at both of them, I scowl darkly. But the tense atmosphere has been shattered. It's more relaxed and for some reason, I am grateful. Deidara begins to giggle a little. I am horrified when my eyes begin to water. My vision blurs and I furiously blink to try and clear away the almost tears.

I don't know why I want to cry. I squeeze my eyes shut and discreetly wipe them. Itachi watches us. A slight smile graces his lips.

"Come on. We've still got like, four hours to waste, un," says Deidara. He has stood up and is offering me his hand.

I heave myself up, ignoring the offered hand. "So what do we do?"

"Had a shower yet?" asks Itachi.

I frown. "I don't remember."

Suddenly the black-haired nurse bursts into the room. She is breathing heavily, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath.

"Is everything okay here? I heard screaming before..." says the nurse, casting a glance around the room for anything unusual.

"Oh, hello Itachi-san! I trust everything is alright then?" asks the nurse, looking relieved.

"Nothing wrong here, Shizune-san," answers Itachi simply.

"Okay, great. Sorry about the delay, Naruto's split personality took over. It was only for a few minutes but it took all we had to restrain him." Shizune smiles weakly.

"Damn. I missed it, un," complains Deidara.

"Well, if you're okay, I'll go now. See you!" Shizune waves before disappearing from the door.

"Why are you here?" I ask Itachi. "I didn't see you at the group therapy."

"I work here," replies Itachi dismissively. "It's complicated."

I don't pursue the topic. He has already closed it.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to shower now," I say.

"I'll have to accompany you," says Itachi.

I stare at him. "Excuse me?"

Itachi rolls his eyes. "So you don't go and kill yourself."

"What am I going to do? Bludgeon myself to death against the taps?" I grumble scathingly.

Itachi smirks. "Unless you want to have a female nurse escort with you..."

"I'll come, un!" says Deidara, excitedly.

"Pervert. Why would you want to come?" I say, rolling my eyes.

"I got no one else to hang out with, un." He shrugs with half a smile.

"What are you going to do? Watch me shower?" I say sarcastically.

"I'll shower too!" says Deidara happily. "Un!"

"We are not sharing under any circumstances," I say. "I hope that's clear."

Deidara nods eagerly. Itachi gets up, a smile playing on his lips.

"Grab whatever you need. I'll get you both towels."

I nod and kick them out of my room. I grab a few items and walk out the door. I try to convince myself that I am _not_ happy.

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**A/N: **Ah, crap. I think that was 50 percent retarded, 20 percent confusing, 20 percent pointless and 5 percent plot. Does that add up? No it doesn't. That just provides how silly I think this part was. Hopefully, you have a more positive opinion. See any self-esteem? No? Well you're right because right now it's gone walk-about. If you happen to find it, deposit a little something in there. In the form of nice reviews? Please?

Okay, okay. I know that you know that deep down inside I am very happy about this fanfiction. But you could still send reviews. Now, I hope I have ranted long enough to convince you to review. If I get enough support I might turn this thing into a trilogy. What fun. And yes, I know, this was heaps shorter. About 1,000 words shorter. Sorry, but if I added another part to it, it would end up being 8,000 something to allow the story to flow smoothly. Forgive me.

On a serious note, if anyone has anything they want to see, suggestions, corrections or just a nice part of plot they would like in here, please tell me. This would be heaps good – especially the plot – as I have no specific plot outlined yet. Just a beginning, gradual revealing of happenings, maybe a few mysteries and the end. And I can't just make that the whole story, how boring would it be?

Oh, and if you _do _find my self-esteem and give it a nice gift, please send it back to me okay? No self-esteem means I might end up like Sasori here. Though, I assure you that low self-esteem was not the reason for his attempted suicide. Don't fret!

I will most likely update within a week. I like to have lots of chapters beforehand as I do a _lot _of checking and editing and cutting things out and adding ideas. And I currently only have 1 more 'ready to be posted' chapter waiting but I want to compare the next chapter with it.

Gee, this was long-winded.


	3. A Shower and Bad Therapy

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N:** Are you all still there? Sorry for the long wait. I had trouble with the next part of the plot. Did some serious cutting and pasting with this chappie. Changed the order of everything. Hopefully it still smooth. My internet also conked out. I spent too much time on it; so I have to post the chappies from another computer for the rest of the month. Which is a veeeeeeerrrrryyyyyyy long time. Not to mention that I am drowning in schoolwork and a tad short of more plot.

Thank you for giving me my self-esteem back. I've locked it up now. Even though it gave me lots of presents. Meh. Aren't I just evil?

By the way, I am a swearaholic – swearing at itty bitty things because I've become so accustomed to it that it comes instinctively. I'm an angst freak – it always brightens my day. I have suicidal tendancies, strange out of the blue depression, stupid highs and rather weird changes in my personality. Yes, I admit there is something wrong with me. Just in case you get the wrong idea. Keep in mind that I'm...not normal. Might help if you are wondering what the hell is wrong with the author.

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, a little bit of blood, big-chested therapists...etc

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SASORI POV

"No, dammit! I thought I made it clear that we are NOT going to share!" I scowl.

"But I just thought we- "

I cut him off. "No way. There is absolutely no way I will even consider sharing, brat."

"Awww, but danna!" whines Deidara.

"Why are you calling me danna?" I ask, frowning.

Deidara shrugs. "We'll keep our clothes on or something of course, un."

"That just ruins the point of having a shower you idiot," I reply scornfully. "And I've already said no."

Deidara puts on a sulky face and glares at me with a look that says '_spoilsport.'_

"Well, don't say anything else, unless you are about to be kidnapped by a gay paedophile or something along the situation of that," I retort coldly. "Actually, on second thoughts, don't bother calling if someone kidnaps you. Good riddance."

"You're mean, un." Deidara pokes out his tongue.

He marches away to the shower cubicle next to mine. I sniff and lock my cubicle door.

I strip off my clothes, feeling a warm blush rise to my cheeks again. I can't help but feel rather vulnerable and small. After a brief contemplation, I unwrap my bandage again. I quickly turn on the shower and then let the hot water burn me slightly. I wince as the angry slash on my arm stings sharply.

"Are you okay Sasori no danna?" Deidara's voice drifts over the walls.

"I'm fine."

I inspect the long cut carefully and find that it has begun to bleed again. Turning my back against the shower head, I let the water pound my back. I hold my injured arm out of the water's reach. Suddenly, I am overcome by a curious urge. I feel the burning need to see the wound bleed again. A thin, trembling finger inches to the slash, hovering above the start of it. I push down hard and run my blunt nail along the scratch roughly. I bite back a whimper of pain. I sink to the ground, half crouching, watching my arm in morbid fascination.

The blood seeps out steadily, bright crimson against pale porcelain. It was so beautiful. A stray drop of water hits the blood and rolls off my arm, leaving a smearing dark red trail. I stand, letting the water wash away my blood. It flows more freely now, steadily pouring off in diluted amounts. It is still distinguishable though. It swirls around the tiled floor, a faint red.

I suddenly feel afraid. What have I done?

_Shit, shit, shit! _I can feel panic fluttering up inside of me. I wonder what they will do to me if they find out.

"Danna? The water on the floor is kind of pink..." calls Deidara uncertainly.

I curse myself in my head creatively. I forgot the walls didn't go all the way to the floor!

"What do you mean pink?" asks Itachi's voice sharply.

"Looks like blood, un," announces Deidara.

"What?"I can hear Itachi quickly walking over from his position at the door.

"Are you sure you're not a girl Deidara?" I try to keep my voice as normal as possible.

"Do you want to check?" huffs Deidara, angrily.

It is silent, except for the splashes of water.

"Sasori," says Itachi finally.

_Crap!_

"What?" I keep my voice bored.

"Come out please."

"What? Naked?" I ask, sarcasm ringing in my voice.

Itachi sighs. "Come out of the shower, get dressed and show me your arm."

My blood runs cold. I don't know what to do. I hear the shower next to mine stop. Numbly, I turn off the taps, dry off and proceed to get dressed. I grab the bandage and wipe it through my wet hair. I quickly wrap it around my arm so it looks as if it hasn't been taken off. Not the best of ideas, but I have to make do.

I take a deep breath and calm myself. I unlock the door, clutching my towel and other items. Itachi is standing there, looking impassive. I hear Deidara unlock the cubicle next door and he walks out to stand next to Itachi. His blonde hair is wet and is slowly dripping water.

"Show me your arm," commands Itachi.

I cautiously hold out my arm. He starts to unwrap the dressing. It drops to the floor with a wet splat.

Everyone stares at it. Finally, "You scratched it, didn't you?"

"No, I haven't taken the bandage off," I lied.

"Then why is it all red and bleeding?"

"I just had a shower," I reply as if this were obvious.

Itachi shakes his head. He seems disappointed.

"So it doesn't really hurt if I do this- "

Deidara runs a gloved finger along the red line, pressing down slightly. I can't help but jerk my arm back. I glare at both of them. I can't believe how they ganged up on me.

"Just leave me alone," I hiss. "You don't understand anything."

I stalk out of the bathroom, my mind whirling with thoughts and emotions. I can't help but feel a raw anger, burning and scratching under my skin. It wants to be let out, red and thick. I try to calm down. I have nothing to sate my excitement, no blades no nothing. I can't let it get out too far; I have to stay in control.

"Wait, Sasori," calls Itachi.

I stop but don't turn around.

"I need to replace your bandage."

Inwardly, I groan. Why can't I just shake them off once and for all?

**

* * *

**

DEIDARA POV

I watch Sasori bite his lip as Itachi carefully cleans the blood away and wraps another bandage in its place.

As soon as Itachi is done, Sasori walks away, not giving us a second glance.

I saunter over to Itachi, where he is sitting and silently watching Sasori's back.

Sasori walks out of the nurse's room. I hear his feet padding to his room on the tile floor.

"So do you think he's okay, un?" I ask.

Itachi's brow furrows slightly. "He needs time. I think you moved too quickly."

I open my mouth to retort but decide against it.

"How are your hands?" asks Itachi, turning to me with a serious look.

"Fine," I answer forcefully. I don't like talking about my hands.

Itachi dips his head in a nod and stands up. "I'd better get back to work."

"Okay...see you later, un!" I wave and bound out of the door.

I desperately want to see Sasori again, but I think I was too quick in extending the hand of friendship. Instead, I walk back to my room, opposite of Sasori's. I pass through the door into my personal space. A room of yellow, orange and red streaks greets me. The walls are explosive with colour. I gaze around proudly. I painted it myself. There is no window in my room. Just a simple bed with a bright yellow bed spread, a tall wardrobe and my special art corner. I happily bounce to that corner, many artworks on the shelf above and a couple on the floor.

A fat little pouffe was situated in the very corner, surrounded by incomplete artworks. Parts of birds and spider legs of clay littered on the floor. I plop myself on the pouffe and twist off a handful of clay from my clay container.

I didn't actually bring the clay with me to this place. They thought it would be too dangerous. But then, I stopped responding and socialising. Tsunade-sama eventually allowed the clay to be brought in. I've been making artworks ever since.

I listen carefully to see if anyone is relatively nearby. When I am assured that all is well, I carefully pry off my gloves. Under my gloves are the secret I've always kept to myself. The thing that made everyone shriek in fear and disgust. The main reason I was here, really. My palms had mouths. I was just born like that. It's as common as someone being born with two heads or four legs. It basically defined me as a freak. But as everyone else does with abnormalities, I grew used to it.

My left hand's tongue flopped out. A string of saliva hung off it.

"Ewww."

I shove the clay in that hand with the other one. It was strange at first, having weird extras that I could actually control. But it did come to good use. I've saved a lot of kneading time. No one else knows except for my family, Tsunade-sama and Itachi. Itachi found out by accident though. He had grabbed my hand in a handshake and felt the gap. He immediately ripped off the glove. Of course, I ended up shouting curses and swearing at the top of my voice, but it didn't change what had happened. But he did keep my secret, even treating me as a normal person. We are on pleasant terms with each other. I don't know if he considers me a friend.

My mouth spits out the soft clay. Luckily, I can't taste anything with these mouths. I start to form the clay. My mind goes blank. It always does. My body takes over and works the clay. After a few minutes I zoom back into the present. I stare down. It's a scorpion.

Sasori...scorpion...

I chuckle to myself, feeling rather happy. I've found a new source of inspiration.

Thinking of Sasori, I can't help but notice he is a little strange. Sure, I know we're all here because of some abnormality. But he acts weird. He had an evasive feel around him before, dodging questions and hiding safely away behind a brick wall. Then, he kind of broke. He opened up a flood of raw essence. Just baring his soul to two strangers.

I laugh. I think I'd make a good poet.

Maybe this place is taking its toll on Sasori already.

Or maybe he really is hurting.

**

* * *

**

Scowling in frustration, I squish the effigy of the scorpion. This time, I carefully start with the tail then move along to the rest of the body.

I mumble vaguely to myself, "_Dent here, bend here, __point__ there..."_

"Deidara? Is this your room?" asks an uncertain voice.

Flushing, I whip my hands behind my back, looking frantically for the gloves.

Sasori comes through the door. "Hey."

I am immediately suspicious; people like him don't greet people like me happily. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. Scratch the happily. People like him don't greet people like me.

"What do you want?" I ask rudely.

Sasori looks miffed at my tone.

"Uh, could you please go back out for a minute?" I ask weakly. My gloves are out of the discretion range.

He wordlessly walks back out. I lunge for my gloves and fumbling, I yank them on. I stand and I put the almost finished scorpion on the shelf.

"Come in, un!" I call.

Sasori walks back in. We are both silent. Then-

"This is your room huh?" he asks, looking around at the mess of colours.

"Yep! Do you like it, un?" I ask, hoping he says yes.

"No. Too colourful," he says with distaste. "Is this your art?"

Feeling a little disappointed, I carefully pick up one of my masterpieces from the shelf.

It is a little clay bird, all of its feathers intricately etched in. It is beautifully shaped, curves and straight edges coming together to form an artwork. I hold it in cupped hands, showing it to Sasori. He leans in and I hear a soft intake of breath. He reaches for the bird, and then glances up at me sharply.

"Can I?" he asks, voice low.

I nod curtly and drop the bird into his hand. He examines it carefully, the gleam of a true artist shining in his eyes.

"Do...you like it?" I ask nervously.

He nods while turning the bird over to gaze at the wings.

"I wish I could show you my art, un," I sigh. I think he'd like it...

"Isn't this your art?" asks Sasori, distractedly.

"No. Not until it explodes."

"What?!" asks Sasori, amazement written across his face.

I am startled. "Huh?"

"Don't tell me you're going to blow this up!?" he says in disbelief.

"Why not?" I ask, puzzled.

"Because it's perfectly beautiful already!" Sasori bursts out.

"Un? And what about it?" I ask, still confused.

Sasori slaps his forehead. "Whatever. I don't care. It's too much trouble to argue with a blonde."

"Hey! That's blatant discrimination!" I say crossly.

"Well for you, the stereotype works."

I snatch the bird out of his hand. "Well, if you can't _appreciate_ good art..."

Sasori rolls his eyes. I place the bird back in its spot on the shelf. I arrange the other artworks properly, fuming at his response.

He stares at me. "Why do you wear gloves?"

I instantly tense.

"Why do you want to know?" I ask stiffly.

"Just curious..." shrugs Sasori. "You've seen my scars."

I swallow. My mind runs through possible reactions. Running, screaming, freezing, horror, fainting... There is a knock at the door. We both turn to the sound. A head pops in. It's Shizune.

"Ah, Sasori-san. It's time for you to see Tsunade-sama," she says cheerily.

"Is this your first time?" I ask Sasori.

He nods. "I'm guessing she's the therapist."

I stifle a snicker. His eyes narrow infinitesimally. Shizune gestures for him to follow. He walks out the door and moves out of vision. I break out into hysterical giggles.

I wish so badly that I could see his face when he meets Tsunade-sama.

**

* * *

**

SASORI POV

I follow the nurse to the therapist's room. She stops at a door with a brass plaque with the word _Therapist_ on it. Shizune knocks and a woman's voice answers.

"Come in."

Shizune nods and with a gentle nudge, she pushes me through the door. I hear the door shut with a _click._

There is a woman standing on the other side of the room, her back to me. She looks rather young. And pretty. Her blonde hair is parted into two loose ponytails. She is wearing a thin, green coat and black pants.

In the room is a beautiful rosewood table. I've been meaning to make a puppet of rosewood. There is a chair on one side of it and a chair on her side. The carpet is dark green along with the walls. A long book case sits on the left of the room. The right side is decorated with diplomas and academic certificates. I see an open file on her desk. My name is typed in red. A glass of water is next to it.

She turns to face me. A pleasant smile is on her face.

"Hello. You must be Akasuna Sasori."

I am not listening. I stare at her chest. Her outrageously _large _chest. And it didn't help that she was wearing a deep V-neck shirt.

_That's one hell of a rack..._

I swallow. Surely there was a size limit? And she was a therapist for crying out loud! Tsunade-sama motions to a chair and I numbly sit. I can't take my eyes off. She props up her elbows on her desk, leaning forward. And revealing more of her already revealed chest. I take a deep breath. I rip my eyes from her chest to her eyes. They are a soft brown colour with a hint of steel.

"I am Doctor Tsunade," she begins.

I nod. I already guessed that.

"So, Sasori-san, do you know where you are?" she asks, eyes studying me.

"Yes. Isadale Psychiatric Hospital." The words fall from my mouth in a monotone. I can feel my eyes watering as I try to keep them from looking down. I am sure she can see me staring.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Yes." I blink at her.

"So, tell me how you feel," she says.

I raise an eyebrow. "You're the therapist. You tell me how I feel."

She sighs, clasping her fingers together. "Let's start again."

"How do you feel about being here?" she asks.

I shrug. "The same as if you were dumped in the loony bin."

The words came out bitter and harsh.

"Why do you think you're here?"

"Because I am deemed unstable?" I retort.

Am I crazy? Is that why I'm here? Who decides what crazy is anyway? I feel normal, irritated, but normal. What is normal anyway? Who decides?

"So tell me about your life." She changes the topic.

"You don't need me to tell you. It's all written down on that file."

She presses forwards. "Were you happy at home?"

"Yeah. I was happy with nobody to care for me."

"Your grandmother told me that you did well at school."

"I was relatively academic if that's what you mean."

"Did you have many friends?"

"No."

"I see. Did you want friends?"

"No."

"I heard you didn't like your father- "

"I don't want to talk about him," I say at once. I feel something curl around my stomach.

Tsunade-sama scribbles something down. She knows she has hit a nerve. My eyes narrow. I feel the urge to run, just run so she can't ask me. So nothing comes up. What is dead should stay dead. Panic flickers deep inside me.

"Do you think he was- ?"

"I said I don't want to talk about him." I feel myself break out into cold sweat. My hands are trembling.

"Okay then." She seems reluctant to leave this subject. "How about your mother- "

"Shut up." My voice is harsh, my breathing ragged. Disjointed images flash silently through my mind. My mind is swimming, I hear dull thuds and something rises in me. My heart has expanded and my mind is on fire, rushing to block the faint images. I can't breathe; my heart is constricting my breathing passage. The images are growing clearer and the thuds are growing louder and louder, shaking my body. My panic grows, threatening to explode.

She seems to sense my overwhelming panic and pushes her glass of water to me. I ignore her and the images retreat again. I struggle to control myself. My lungs are screaming for air and heart begging to slow. I breathe in deeply for my starved lungs, my heart flutters once more before settling.

"It must have been hard for you. To see- "

I abruptly stand up and knock over her glass of water. The waves spill to the file, washing over the wads of paper. My name smears like the mascara of a crying woman. Tears of red ink, tears of blood.

"It wasn't hard. Not as hard as it's going to be for you to read those soggy lies," I say.

I walk out of her office, through the corridors and to my room. I lie on my bed and stare at the white ceiling.

**

* * *

**

NORMAL POV

The afternoon passed uneventfully into evening. Dinner was over and most of the patients were gathered in the Recreation Room or in their own rooms. Reclining on his bed, Sasori sighed. One day and he were already bored out of his brains. Just how long could they keep you here for?

_"As long as you need to be," _whispered a snide voice in his head.

Sasori frowned slightly. He hadn't seen Deidara after meeting Tsunade-sama. Not even at dinner. How strange. Sasori almost expected Deidara to burst in though the door right now.

Another voice interrupted his thoughts. "So, how was your first day?"

Sasori blinked at Naruto. He was standing in the door way, dressed in his light blue pyjamas.

"Take a guess," replied Sasori.

Naruto laughed. "Get used it. You'll be here a while."

"I'm aiming for as soon as possible," said Sasori.

Naruto laughed again. "I've gotta go bug Sasuke now. Lights out at 10:00 by the way."

Sasori watched as Naruto disappeared from view. What the hell was he supposed to do for two hours?

Suddenly, Sasori caught sight of Gaara walking down the hall. He was shuffling along, clad in black pyjamas. Sasori's eyes narrowed when Gaara stopped at his door way.

"Hello," greeted Gaara. "Mother told me to stop by."

Sasori nodded curtly to acknowledge him.

"I think Mother has taken a liking to you," said Gaara gravely.

Sasori raised an eyebrow. "Should I take that as a good thing?"

Gaara frowns. "Only if I happen to be carrying a blade. Or if it's a full moon. Mother likes full moons."

Sasori blinked. The rings around his eyes seem darker and his eyes looked tired. "I'm guessing you don't sleep."

Gaara stared impassively at Sasori before giving a quick shake of his head. Then he turned and shuffled off. He really was strange. Or maybe he's just lonely and sad. That's what all the therapists would probably conclude. Sasori sighed and sat up on his bed. He wondered if there had ever been a record for suiciding of boredom. Of not, well, there would be soon.

Sasori heaved himself off the bed, before changing into his pyjamas. Just a simple pair of boxers and a large, loose shirt. He crawled back into his bed having already gone to the bathroom earlier. Leaning over to look in the drawer next to his bed, Sasori found a large notebook and a pen. Ah, yes. He vaguely remembered someone saying something about keeping a journal while here. Of course, there was no way he was going to keep a journal. He wouldn't resort to such a pathetic thing. But the blank pages _could_ be put to good use. Like drawing puppet designs.

With that, Sasori busied himself with drawing various designs. Time seemed to fly past as he drew a collection of rough sketches. Crossing out several plans, he stuck the end of the pen in his mouth, pondering about the size and materials. He had come up with a pretty good drawing, worth turning into a real puppet. He scribbled down some measurements before calculating the cost of different materials.

"Should I use rosewood or oak?" Sasori asked no one in particular.

"Depends on what you want to use it for," answered a placid voice.

Zetsu was standing outside of the door frame. He looked mildly curious at what Sasori was doing. Gliding over the side of the bed, Zetsu examined the puppet ideas.

"Not bad," said Zetsu finally. _"For such a lame hobby."_

Sasori was pleased at Zetsu's approval. "It's not the best design."

"No it's not," agreed Zetsu. "You may want to change the length of the arms a little. And probably the diameter of the head. It's out of proportion."

After a brief decision, Sasori jotted down new measurements and crossed out the old ones. He frowned at it, trying to imagine it in 3D. Satisfied, he put down the pen and journal.

"Did you want something?" Sasori asked Zetsu.

Zetsu shook his two-coloured head. "I just haven't seen Deidara after group therapy. I thought he would be with you."

"I haven't seen him after meeting with Tsunade-sama," Sasori admitted. "Why would be he with me?"

Zetsu shrugged. "He likes you. He hasn't really got any other friends anyway. He has too many secrets that he seems to refuse to indulge in. It's a little frustrating for the rest of us. Except for Naruto and Tobi. They like him a little, but Deidara doesn't think very highly of Tobi and only talks to Naruto sometimes."

"_They're all idiots, born and bred," _added Zetsu poisonously.

"Might be an artist thing actually," said Zetsu, after a little thinking.

"Two artists with conflicting ideas," Sasori corrected. He wondered where Deidara was. At the therapist maybe? Or maybe he was avoiding him. Not likely though.

"So, with this design I'd say rosewood. It'll look nicer and be stronger too. Rosewood was very popular for Chinese martial arts weapons," Zetsu told him. "Very dense."

Sasori raised an eyebrow. "And you know this, why?"

"Is knowledge a crime?" retorted Zetsu vaguely. "I just know these kinds of things. Just like you know about poisons."

Sasori stared at Zetsu. "How do you know that? I didn't tell anyone here about liking poisons."

Zetsu smiled secretively. "_Let's just say__ I'd make a very good spy."_

Sasori rolled his eyes disdainfully. "Like I care. Well, Deidara's not here. So, if you don't want anything else..."

"Or in other words, to put it bluntly, you're saying get out," said Zetsu, amusement written on his face. "_It's not like you're very interesting anyway. You'd probably taste like shit."_

Sasori said nothing. What was with this guy and cannibalism? What a freak. Like everyone else here actually. And maybe he himself counted as well. Most people don't cut themselves to cope with problems.

"I should go now. My tulip needs to be watered," said Zetsu. He turned and walked out the door. "_We need to feed the Venus __fly trap too, don't__ forget."_

Sasori sighed, wondering if mental illnesses could rub off. If so, he would probably need therapy after getting _out_ of the hospital. Who invented mental institutes anyway?

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **I enjoyed writing the little therapist session. Didn't like the part afterwards though. Cause I had to cut and paste a whole section, so...well...yeah, my mind's a little confused. But I was fairly happy with this chapter. Happy-ish actually. Probably because there was a nice _serious _part of plot in here. If there are typos in the text...well...I'm sorry. I am fairly prone to typos. Well, next chapter will be up...when I finished writing that and the next chapter. Most likely in a fortnight. I know, I know. The gap between updates are getting longer and longer. Well it's like 4000-5000 words a chapter. Kinda hard if you think about it. That's an understatement. It's almost impossible to keep up. School holidays soon, will most likely speed up updates for a while. Possibly.

However, before I post the next chapter, I have a very serious question you have to answer:

Should Deidara have an older sister or brother? This will have minor impact in this fanfiction but major impact if I do a sequel. Hint: The sequel will focus on, well, abuse, violence...er...that sort of thing. Older brother will mean that the abuse...etc is mostly emotional, psychological – mostly not physical pain. But if he has an older sister, the abuse will be most likely physical – bruises, broken arms...etc.

I can go with either (though I think I'd be better at emotional abuse) but I would like an opinion. I can't promise I'll go with the majority though. Oh, and I do not have the order (brother emotional, sister physical) mixed up.

And another thing. Should this be yaoi/shonen-ai? Well, the main pairing would be SasoDei. I will most likely put in SasuNaru in anyway. Not a fan of many other pairings. Maybe KisaIta. Please expression your opinions. Mostly shonen-ai though, not too confident at yaoi.


	4. Dance, Deidara, Dance

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N: **I need to sort out my priorities! Schoolwork, pets, free time and _then _fanfiction. And family somewhere in there too. I need a freaking life! Anyone have a spare they can lend me?

I have decided that 14000 plus words for just ONE day in the story is just overdoing it. I will speed up a little, just so I don't lose interest with this thing. Constant stimulation. By the way, I have absolutely no idea where this chapter came from. I swear, I think I must've been on a serious high when writing this. Eurgh. I really need to come down to earth.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter – well, as much as anyone can enjoy my chapters...

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, strange dreams, blood, mention of bulimia...etc

* * *

SASORI POV 

I am standing in a field of grass, flecks of crimson decorating the strands. The sky is smearing with red and grey. I can hear my heart, echoing in the empty red. I look around and see nothing but crimson, blood red crimson. I shudder as a cold wind picks up and something hits my face. I look up and see red spots flying at me. I immediately shield my face, twitching as something wet hits my arm. Slowly, I lower it and stare.

It has burned a hole through my arm, leaving a sizzling red scar. More dots hit my arm, each burning their own way through. I can't feel anything, only the wet drops. The coppery scent of blood reaches my nose. I feel a wave of nausea wash over me and I start to back away. I run into something and I spin around, my heart screaming in panic. I stare at Deidara. He stands there, holding something behind his back. He has a strange light in his eyes; they reflect red, the scene around us. Slowly he reveals what he is holding. My eyes lock upon it. My brain registers what it is, sending my mind into overload. My mouth opens but I can't scream, I can't breathe. I am silent as Deidara raises it above his head. I try to speak, to yell, to breathe. A malicious smile spreads and it swings down-

"Sasori! Wake up, wake up!"

I am instantly jolted awake, sitting up, my heart thudding quickly. I drag in a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly. My heart is echoing in my rib cage. My skin is prickling as I feel eyes watching me. I slowly look up to the left. Deidara is standing to the left of me.

Horrified, I shrink away as red starts to cloud my vision again. I am trapped; my arms and legs are held down. Someone is screaming, I have to find them. I struggle to move but everything is spinning. I watch as the ceiling grows black spots, spreading like a disease. Everything is tinted in red, so hazy and dreamlike. I hear someone shouting, it sounds vaguely like my name. I blink but now everything is a gloomy grey. I wonder if this is what they call crazy. The black ceiling rushes down to me and I recoil away from it. Black waves roll over me, flooding my mouth with blood, drowning me. Choking, I give up and fall away from the surface.

* * *

"Wake up, damn it! Wake up!" 

I stir; I try to tell the voice to leave me be. I feel warm breath brushing my face. I crack open an eye, shocked to see blue eyes, outlined in black. Merely millimetres away from my face. I push myself up quickly, but instantly regret it as our skulls collide. I swear loudly as a sharp jolt of pain rams deep into my head. My hands fly up to hold my forehead as I glare my darkest glare at the infuriating blonde.

Deidara has reeled back, clutching his forehead. He moans as he nurses his injured head. "Why do you wake up in the mood to hurt someone, un?"

"You shouldn't have your face so close to mine, you brat." I can feel my head throbbing slightly. I scowl. What a wake-up call. A fantastic way to wake up in your second morning at the mental hospital. With a blonde in your face and a free head injury too.

"You looked so peaceful and kissable," says Deidara wincing, still nursing his forehead. He seems oblivious to what he has just said.

"Excuse me? _Kissable?_" I repeat in disbelief. Holy shit, the blonde's hitting on me after knowing me for less than one day. I can feel a headache coming on.

"Maybe not kissable. More like you were thrashing around, un," Deidara reconsiders.

_Thrashing around? _I feel my ears burning with embarrassment. I can't decide which one is worse. Thrashing or kissable. There goes my reputation. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

"Well you still shouldn't have been so close," I snap crankily at him.

"You looked at me like I was some kind of monster the first time you woke up. Then your eyes kind of rolled back and you started thrashing. I thought you were having a seizure, un," says Deidara defensively.

"Well you should've let me have my seizure in _peace_, without staring so damn close to my face."

"You have absolutely no gratitude, do you?" sniffs Deidara. He scowls at me.

I roll my eyes. "Where were you yesterday anyway?"

Deidara smiles happily at me. "I didn't know you cared that much, un!"

"I don't. Zetsu was the one wondering where you were."

Deidara's large smile shrinks a few centimetres. "Way to burst my bubble, danna. And I thought you were finally warming up to me, un."

"I don't make your assumptions. No wonder they're wrong, brat."

"You know the definition of brat is an unpleasant child usually used in annoyance, un?"

"Well then it fits you perfectly doesn't it?" I say sarcastically.

"You are just horrible you know that, un?" glowered Deidara. "I don't know why I even bother talking with you."

"Because you have no other friends you idiot," I reply brusquely.

"Gee thanks. Just rub it in will you? And it's nice to know I've been upgraded from brat to idiot," grumbles Deidara.

I snort. "It's called the truth. Isn't honesty a virtue? Or so they say..."

"Well maybe you could keep a check on your blunt mouth, un," snaps Deidara. Anger seems to have flared up from behind his eyes.

"Take it easy," I say, frowning. "Don't get so worked up about it. It was just a freaking comment."

"Well you should think about what you're going to say," says Deidara darkly. He scowls, anger clearly written on his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, bewildered. "You were fine just a minute ago. Now you act like I just insulted your art."

"Don't worry about it. Just forget what I said. Okay? Just forget it," mutters Deidara. He takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He closes his visible eye.

I watch him closely, searching for any signs as to what had just triggered his reaction.

"I...," begins Deidara, opening his eye again. "...have an issue with truth. It's just something I have a big problem with."

I stare intently at him, hoping he continues. He looks away to the side instead.

"I don't want to talk about it. Just don't talk about it in front of me, un," says Deidara in a low voice. He shivers before shaking his head and looking back up to me.

Deidara changes topic. "So how was your first meeting with Tsunade-sama?"

If he wants to drop the subject, then I'll follow along. "Horrible."

Deidara smirks. "Don't tell me. You were distracted by her impressive rack, un."

I can feel myself blushing. "Don't tell me you weren't."

Deidara laughs. "Nope, I'm gay."

I gape at him. I'm sure my face shows my shock. I open and close my mouth like a fish out of water. Deidara walks up to me. He peers closely at my face. I am uncomfortably aware at how close his face is to mine. For a second, I'm afraid he'll kiss me. A loud clap makes me jump. I glare furiously at Deidara. He is holding his stomach, laughing uncontrollably. I wait until the laughter subsides. He drags in a deep breath.

"Don't worry. I'm not gay, un," Deidara assures me. He frowns. "At least, I don't think I am. Never actually thought about it."

I try to recover my dignity. "Well it would've explained a lot."

"Hey!" He swats at my head.

I duck skilfully and grab his gloved hand instead. I look up to smirk at Deidara. But his expression has changed to terror. He snatches back his hand, holding it close to him. We stare at each other, unmoving. He offers half a smile. A rather weak one at that.

"Please don't touch my hands, un," says Deidara in a nervous voice.

I nod. Now I'm itching to know what's under his gloves. We are silent, unknowing how to continue.

"So, wanna go to breakfast, un?" came Deidara's feeble attempt to return things to normal.

**

* * *

**

I stare at Deidara. "You're joking."

Deidara blinks and shakes his head. "Nope, not joking. It's not that bad really."

"What do you mean not that bad? I mean, seriously?"

"Nobody really participates. Kurenai doesn't really mind. She can figure things out without having to see us actually join in, un."

I cross my arms over my chest. "There is no way anyone is going to get me to do anything but stand there. How is it supposed to help us? It's not therapy, it's just plain torture!"

"Freaking hell, Sasori, it's not like anybody's going to force you, un!" Deidara rolls his eyes.

I scowl. "Does anyone ever join in?"

Deidara thinks for a moment. "I heard Neji did once. That was before I came though."

"You know, that was kinda disturbing to hear."

Deidara turns to me with a serious look on his face. "You think that's disturbing? Imagine _Gaara_ participating, un."

"Don't say that again. My brain's scarred now."

Deidara chuckles. "I've never participated in case you want to know. My dignity stands."

"Really? You seem like someone who would join in a stupid thing like that."

Deidara glares at me. "That wasn't a joke at my appearance was it, un?"

"Maybe," I reply vaguely. We've arrived at the door for the therapy.

**

* * *

**

"Hello again everyone! Welcome back to dance therapy," says the woman with messy black hair.

We are in a large room, Doctor Kurenai standing in the middle while all the patients are sitting on the floor in a semicircle around her. Everyone looks bored, faces blanks and staring at the walls. I can hear Tobi humming cheerfully and Deidara is glaring in annoyance at him. Doctor Kurenai is wearing a pair of tracksuit pants and jacket with the sleeves pushed up. She has socks on along with a happy smile. Damn the therapists and their smiles. The room is fairly bare, just a large open space with a couple of cupboards and a CD player in the corner. The fans are whirling overhead, the lights shining brightly. The walls are white of course.

"Okay, so I'm going to play a piece of music. I would really encourage you to dance along, but I'm not going to force you. Just act on your instincts, do what the music tells you. Express yourselves," explains Kurenai.

If I were to act on instinct, I would just walk back out of here.

She walks to the CD player and turns it on. Fiddling a little with the volume, she steps back as music begins to play. She moves back to the middle of the room, closes her eyes and begins to dance. The room falls into silence, with only the music notes drifting across and the soft rustle of Kurenai's clothes.

Kurenai moves to the music, her body whole body seems to be connected to invisible notes hanging in the air. All of her movements are graceful, each twist or jump is in time. Everyone seems to be watching her intently. Everything she does seems to flow; her dancing just seems to command attention. She holds her arms out and tips her head to the side, rolling it slowly as she raises her arms. She freezes at that position for a moment, before going into a flurry of spins. Slowly down again, she swings her arms out again, twisting her body slightly away and performing what looks to be in a ballet-like style. She stretches out, balancing on one leg before straightening and performing a series of leaps. She stops suddenly and raises her arms. She tips backwards, her back arching and her fingers reaching to the ground. I hear Deidara breathe in as she completes three backwards walkovers, ending in a lunge with her arms stretched to the ceiling. I notice her eyes are still closed. She jumps up on the spot before leaping forward into a series of flysprings and ending in a layout. Tobi gasps and Kurenai opens her eyes.

"Would you like to join Tobi?" asks Kurenai.

Tobi shakes his head shyly. "No thank you Kurenai-san."

She turns to where Deidara and I are sitting. "What about you Deidara? Come and dance."

"No way, un," says Deidara immediately. He shakes his head vigorously, ponytail swinging wildly.

"You want to dance."

"You want me to dance, un?"

"No, _you _want to dance. You were swaying in time to the music," replies Kurenai frankly.

Naruto stifles a laugh. Deidara looks horrified.

"I was _not _swaying, un! No way!" protests Deidara. His ears are pink.

Tobi pats him on the back. "Come on Deidara-san! I'm sure you'll do really great!"

Deidara backs away from Tobi's hand, scowling as Naruto chuckles. "You go dance Tobi!"

"I'd look silly. But I think you'll look really good dancing. You've got just the right kind of body, flexible and dancer looking!" encourages Tobi.

Deidara splutters incomprehensibly. Naruto is rolling around in laughter and clutching his sides. Even Sasuke looks amused. The corner of Neji's mouth was twitching and Gaara is blinking at Deidara.

"I do not have the right kind of body, flexible or even dancer looking!" rages Deidara, his face bright red now.

"But you seem so lithe! Like what a dancer should- " starts Tobi.

"No, no, no, no! What are you?! A pervert?!" yells Deidara. "I'm not dancing!"

"Your body is thin and kind of like Kurenai- san's," continues Tobi, oblivious to Deidara's rage. "It's like one of those professional girl dancers, you know, the really good ones..."

"Don't compare my body to a girl's you idiot!" screeches Deidara. "Not dancing, NOT dancing!"

"Deidara-san, come on! You'll be fantastic! I'm sure Sasori-san would join you if you're shy!" reassures Tobi.

"Leave me out of this. Deidara's the girly one here. He can dance alone."

Deidara turns to me, flames almost literally burning in his eyes. "Not girly, not dancing!"

"You _were_ swaying Deidara," says Naruto with a solemn face. He suddenly bursts into howls of laughter.

"And what Tobi said about your body was true," comments Zetsu. "_You have a nice ass too."_

Deidara chokes as Naruto doubles over, coughing violently in between laughs. Sasuke helpfully thumps him hard on the back.

"Enough with the comments about my fucking body!" shouts Deidara hysterically.

"_Yes, a very nice body indeed," _says Zetsu under his breath. "_Looks kind of tasty too."_

"Don't say that Zetsu-san!" says Tobi turning to Zetsu reproachfully. "Now, Deida- oof!"

Tobi turns back to Deidara just as Deidara throws himself at Tobi. They are knocked to the ground as Deidara struggles to injure Tobi in any way possible. Naruto is cheering, raising Sasuke's reluctant hands too. Gaara leans forward eagerly as Neji watches them blankly. Kurenai moves in to pull them apart but wisely moves out of the way as thrashing limbs wave threateningly in her direction. Zetsu merely licks his lips.

"Ow! Let go of my hair you moron!" yelps Deidara.

"Pull his hair! Pull his hair!" shouts Naruto, gleefully.

Deidara snarls loudly and grabs a fistful of Tobi's hair, tugging viciously. Tobi immediately releases Deidara's hair, hands flying up to pull Deidara off his own. Deidara shoves Tobi away and they both stumble to their feet. Hurling themselves at each other again, they lock hands and push against the other. Neither is gaining ground, but they are forcing each to move in circles. It looks like some bizarre kind of dance. Deidara grunts and pushes Tobi violently backwards. Tobi staggers back and lands on his ass, looking up at Deidara who is panting, his hair in messy disarray. He suddenly pounces on Tobi again, straddling his stomach. He raises a fist, aiming it at Tobi's face. Tobi squeaks, squirming out from under Deidara. He takes one look at Deidara's enraged face and raised fist before scrabbling away. He lurches to his feet but doesn't make it as Deidara launches himself yet again at Tobi, breathing hard. He prepares to punch Tobi again.

"Hit the pretty boy! Punch him Tobi!" yells Naruto enthusiastically, waving Sasuke's arms around.

Silence. Then-

"Naruto you die, un!" Deidara untangles himself from Tobi, leaving him looking mortified at the fact that he had been in a fight. Deidara instead leaps at Naruto, sending them both rolling across the floor, both scrambling to punch the other.

"Tobi was a bad boy! What has Tobi done?" wails Tobi, suddenly talking in third person. "Bad Tobi, bad Tobi!"

"Die, you idiot, die!" shrieks Deidara, whacking Naruto over the head again and again.

"Hey! Don't (_whack) _hit me! What did I (_whack) _do?!" asks Naruto, shielding his head from the incoming blows.

"Bad Tobi, bad Tobi!"

"Ow! Sasuke, help me you bastard!"

Sasuke stares at Naruto, rolling his eyes. "Help yourself, you idiot."

"Sasuke! I hate you!" moans Naruto, wincing as Deidara delivers a particularly brutal punch to his head. "Ow, ow!"

"Bad Tobi! Bad Tobi!"

Kurenai stands there, watching numbly. Gaara walks calmly to the squabbling pair, squatting down to their eye level. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and draws out a plastic fork. Looking suspiciously like one of the plastic forks we used during breakfast.

"Have a fork." He holds it out to both of them.

Deidara snatches it up without sparing a glance at Gaara who steps back to watch. He starts to attempt stabbing Naruto's eye. Naruto yelps as the first stab narrowly misses. Flailing wildly, Naruto tries to grab the offending fork, ducking as Deidara deftly aims a swift punch at his head.

"That's dangerous! No- wait! Watch it! It almost hit my eye!" protests Naruto, while ducking and swatting at Deidara hand. "You almost stabbed my hand!"

"That's the point you idiot!" shouts Deidara. "Stay still!"

"Like hell I'd stay still!" yells Naruto, pushing Deidara off him and snatching the fork.

"Give that back! I haven't stabbed you yet!" Deidara grabs at the fork, growing red again as Naruto keeps it tantalisingly out of reach.

Gaara steps forwards again, reaching into his pocket again. He pulls out another three forks. He offers them to Deidara.

"Forks for everyone," he says gravely. There is smidge of butter on one of the forks.

Deidara seizes all three forks and rushes at Naruto, who pales before tearing across the room with Deidara chasing him, holding all forks in stabbing position.

"Bad Tobi, look what you've done!" moans Tobi, head in his hands. Kurenai comforts him while Zetsu pats him awkwardly on the head.

"Sasuke! HELP ME!" howls Naruto, speeding up as Deidara comes within stabbing reach.

Sasuke sighs before stepping forward and Naruto gratefully hides behind him. Deidara pushes Sasuke out of the way and suddenly realises his forks are missing.

"Give them back, un!"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," babbles Naruto, breathing out with relief. He foolishly pokes his tongue out at Deidara.

Deidara immediately socks him in the stomach. Naruto doubles over and collapses, wheezing. Sasuke crouches down and checks if Naruto is seriously hurt. Deidara stands there fuming. He shoots a glare at everyone and they all begin to back away.

"I need to burn something," announces Deidara. He points to Naruto. "Preferably the boy on the floor, un."

Sasuke pulls Naruto up; looking slightly put off as Naruto pulls him back down and wraps his arms tight around his waist burying his face in his shirt.

"Save me!" came the muffled wail.

Sasuke stares at the mess of blonde hair, before remembering they had an audience.

"Not here, you idiot," mumbles Sasuke, pushing Naruto weakly away.

Naruto clings on tighter and Sasuke resorts to poking him hard in the ribs. Sasuke turns pink as Naruto starts laughing into his stomach.

There is a knock at the door and Itachi walks in.

Sasuke immediately freezes, a low and almost inaudible growl resonating from his throat. Naruto looks up to see Sasuke's fixed stare. He glances to Itachi before pulling back, looking slightly embarrassed. Itachi seems bemused at both Sasuke's death glare and Naruto's embarrassment at being caught in such a position. Itachi looks across the room, from the spectators, the therapist who was at total loss, to the fuming Deidara along with his previous opponents. He stares Sasuke in the straight in the eye, making him tense. Naruto watches Sasuke with a slightly worried expression. He lays a hand on Sasuke's shoulder and Sasuke steals a glance at him. He relaxes a little, but clearly still wary.

"We seem to be missing cutlery. Four forks, two spoons and apparently, I am told, we are also missing half a plate," declared Itachi, face completely straight.

Naruto snickers, stopping abruptly when Sasuke throws him a dirty glare.

"Ah, dear brother. You seem to be holding three of the missing forks," said Itachi, walking towards Sasuke.

He stops immediately when Sasuke snarls loudly at him. Naruto nudges Sasuke in the ribs and the snarl lessens to a low growl. Itachi looks slightly disappointed, sighing softly.

"Are you still holding me to blame?" asks Itachi quietly. "After all this time?"

"Of course I'm holding you to blame, you fucking bastard!" snarls Sasuke, rising from the floor. Naruto clings to his arm, his face evidently pleading him to calm down. Still clearly angry, Sasuke stops and sits back down. He takes a deep breath, trembling with anger.

"Did you think I would just forgive you?" asks Sasuke, fury ringing in his voice.

Itachi stare at him evenly. "Over time, I have to admit. I thought you would come to see things reasonably."

"I already know the truth," spits Sasuke. Then he adds bitterly, "I am thinking reasonably. Too bad you weren't one year ago."

Itachi simply holds out his hand, indicating to the forks. Sasuke narrows his eyes, hands shaking. He hurls the forks at Itachi who quickly ducks. They fly over his head with surprising force, landing silently on the carpet. Itachi bends over and picks them up.

"Not bad. But my hand was a little lower than that," comments Itachi. He smiles, almost tauntingly.

Sasuke launches himself at Itachi, face contorted with fury, when Naruto suddenly tackles him to the ground. Struggling fiercely, Sasuke tries to throw Naruto off, but seems unwilling to seriously hurt him.

"Let me go. I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him!" shouts Sasuke. His breathing is ragged, his movements weakening.

Naruto pins him face down on his stomach, telling him to think properly, think about what he was doing. Sasuke growls something back hoarsely, voice shaking. Itachi stands there, face emotionless, but clearly tired. He wearily holds his hand out to Deidara who has just happily picked up the fork Naruto dropped. Scowling, Deidara makes to throw the fork, but thinks better of it. He pokes his tongue out at Itachi and snaps the fork in half. Itachi's tired expression is replaced with annoyance.

"You don't happen to have the two spoons and half a plate, do you?" asks Itachi sarcastically.

Gaara steps forward and pulls out the missing items. Including the half plate and also a squashed plastic cup. He tosses them at Itachi who snorts quietly. Picking them up, Itachi casts one last glance at Sasuke, pinned on the floor, before slipping out the door. Naruto slowly crawls off Sasuke and flops on the floor, eyes closed and mouth open.

"I did no dancing at all and I feel like I've run a marathon," complains Naruto.

Sasuke rolls over, staring up at the ceiling as if it's the most interesting thing he's seen all day.

Zetsu pushes a sniffling Tobi gently out the door and they both disappear from sight. Kurenai clears her throat.

"Well," she begins, "That was certainly an interesting, er, experience. Next time, try to keep your temper under control. Other than that...I'll be leaving now."

She smiles hastily and Deidara pulls a face at her quickly retreating back. Neji calmly walks out, having not been affected at all. Gaara stoops down and picks up the fork that Deidara had snapped in half before leaving. Naruto opens one eye and inches closer to Sasuke. Deidara scowls and purposely steps on Naruto's stomach on his way out.

"This is not a good day," grumbles Naruto, holding his abused stomach. "I want ramen..."

I follow Deidara who is waiting for me impatiently. He huffs and begins to comb through his hair with his fingers, wincing every time he hits a snag.

"So, that was interesting," I say. Deidara turns to me, glaring darkly.

"Well at least it wasn't Bash-Sasori day," Deidara says, sulking. "No, it just _had_ to be Bash-Deidara day."

I smack him up the head, messing up the recently untangled strands. He scowls and combs through his hair again.

"Maybe you can dance next time," I say casually.

I break into a run, barely hiding a smile as Deidara runs after me, shouting obscenities while combing his now static hair.

**

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DEIDARA POV

I feel bad. Not the kind of bad when you feel guilt. More like the bad you feel when you've just gotten into a fight and had both your ego and body abused. And in my opinion, that's a lot worse.

"I think there was something in the food," groans Sasori, holding his stomach, slightly bending forward.

Or maybe it was the bad food kind of bad.

"Sucked in, un," I retort nastily.

He looks at me with a pained expression. "You still cranky I tripped you over?"

I grimace, remembering how I had come skidding around a corner and unwittingly fell over his outstretched foot. In front of Tobi who immediately tried to help me back up.

"Of course not," I says sweetly, smacking his back fondly.

He claps his hand over his mouth." I think I'm going to throw up..."

He rushes in the direction of the bathroom. I chuckle and follow him inside the building, lazily shaking cherry blossom petals from my hair. Entering the building, I find it is quiet. Too quiet.

"Hello?" I call. My footsteps echo in the empty mess hall.

I turn the corner into the corridor which leads to the bathroom. I jump back when Neji suddenly appears in front of me. He regards me coolly.

"The redhead went that way." He points down the corridor. "I don't think he's feeling well."

I stop myself from rolling my eyes. Instead, I nod politely and hurry away. I can feel his eyes watching my back. Rounding the corner, I sneak a glance back and see him staring. Feeling slightly uneasy, I pause outside the bathroom. I snigger when I hear retching sounds. Pushing open the door, I can't keep the smug smile off my face. I peer into each cubicle until I find Sasori in the last one.

"Watcha doing here, un?" I ask. My smile grows wider as he retches again.

He doesn't answer, but I wait until he finishes. He glares at me while wiping his mouth. Rinsing out his mouth, he turns to me.

"So did you enjoy watching me throw up?" he asks sarcastically.

I pretend to think. "Actually, yes I have to say I did, un."

He rolls his eyes. "You have strange fetishes. You really should get help."

I ignore this comment. "Just don't throw up too often, okay? They may start to think you're bulimic. Hey, that'd been a strange combination wouldn't it? Bulimic and suicidal, un."

He scowls. "You're just a sick little brat you know that?"

"Am I the one who butchers their arms into mangled scars for reasons unknown?" I ask innocently. I realise what I just said. "Sorry, that just kind of slipped out..."

Sasori is silent for a minute. He unconsciously tugs on his sleeves, avoiding eye contact and looking to the side. "It is sick."

"I'm sorry, un," I say quietly. I study him closely, uneasiness growing inside, making me feel even worse than I was before. Was he angry at me?

"Don't worry about it." His voice is flat, face impassive. He turns, footsteps amplified as he leaves the bathroom, the door shutting with a _click._

**

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**A/N:** (facepalms) I have failed. 4000 plus words and I've only done the morning. How am I supposed to keep to my limits? FIVE pages of dance therapy. Yay. Where is the PLOT??? I swear, I am HOPELESS at these sorts of things... There was no angst at all in this. Unless you count the first part. I should 'regenre' this as Humour/Angst. But that wouldn't make any sense at all.

Okay, any reviews (not that I'm really expecting any – this chapter was total weirdness) sent after the 2nd of October may not be answered until a week after. My internet is STILL currently dead and I have holidays next week.

Which country do you all write/read from?

(And if you want to stone me for writing the most irrelevant chapter ever, I COMPLETLY understand. XD)


	5. A Butterfly and a Sister

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N: **I am so proud of myself. I actually worked on this thing. I've just realised something. Whenever it's Sasori's POV, I usually focus it on his feelings and experiences. And whenever it's Deidara's POV, I make it sound communicational. Huh, it's funny how my mind works.

OMG. I have reached 50 reviews. I'm so thankful to all of you. You have no idea how happy you all make me. I love you all. I'm getting kinda teary here...enjoy this chapter. And thanks to those who have encouraged myself worth.

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, squished insects, and-I-can't-think-of-anything-else...etc

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DEIDARA POV

Life is strange isn't it? How you could wake up one morning and not think about how today you could say something wrong and then you smash everything into pieces. Or you might make the wrong decision and then it affects your whole life? Trouble is you can't always recognise the life changing decision. Sometimes it could be small, like choosing to reply to someone or not. And then before you know it, everything has changed. And then you get the sick feeling you get when you realise your mistake. It just hits you and you want to curl up and go back through time. Just to stop yourself saying that. Then you wonder how this could happen after going through a relatively normal morning, unaware that you could do this.

Kinda like how I feel. I feel absolutely miserable. I can't believe I said that to Sasori.

Sitting in my room on my pouffe, I fiddle aimlessly with the clay scorpion. The scene from the bathroom just replays itself over and over again. It just won't stop, no matter how much I try to focus on something else. Over and over and over and over...I bite my lip to stop myself screaming from frustration. I feel that urge come slowly again. The urge to see something burn again. The need to see the flames flicker and hear the crackle of burning objects. The need, burning and clawing at me to set a fire. I feel the itch crawling up my back and I try to force it back down.

"Remember what Tsunade-sama said: Calm down and find something else to release the tension on," I say, breathing deeply.

I grab a wad of clay and force myself to focus on that. I turn it over and over again in my gloved fingers, too annoyed to knead it properly. Growing more and more angry, I start to mash the clay mercilessly, pulling off chunks and tossing them on to the floor. No inspiration comes, everything just seems so blank. I decide that today hates me. Finally giving up, I slam the remnants of the clay back into the container. I lean my head back against the cool wall, wondering if he's still mad after two hours.

I walk up and start to pace around the room, thinking through several possible scenarios that could occur if I apologized. Best case scenario, Sasori would forgive me and we'd decide that this has strengthened our friendship and we'll be happy buddies from now on. Actually, that'd be more of a Tobi-case scenario. A Deidara-case scenario would be that he'd forgive me and things would return to normal. A worst case scenario would be that he'd ignore me for the rest of my life and then kill me when I get too old to move.

I flop lifelessly on to my bed, too tired and confused to think straight. I pull off my gloves and toss them to the floor. I raise my hands up above to stare at them. I wonder what's so abnormal about them. They don't look strange if you just stare at them. I flip my hands around, pleased to find that the back looks just like everybody else's. At least some part of me is normal. And for some reason, knowing that comforts me. Like maybe what I said will turn out okay because I am not completely a freak.

Rolling over on to my stomach, I settle on giving him one more hour to forget. And maybe today will take pity on me and make things turn around in one hour too. It wouldn't be good if I just blew it all over again.

**

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**

I twiddle my gloved fingers nervously, wondering whether to stay there and apologise or to just run away. I stare at the brass plaque, shiny and polished. I can't hear anything inside. What if he's asleep? Will he be even madder at me? Raising my hand hesitantly, I knock smartly on the door. I hear the bed creak and quiet footsteps. The door opens and Sasori is standing there. His hair is more ruffled than usual and his eyes heavy-lidded.

"Yes?" he asks dully.

I swallow, mouth suddenly dry. I've forgotten what to say. I open my mouth to say something, but close it again not sure if he would find offense at it. Sasori looks irritably at me.

"What do you want?" he asks, voice rough.

I lick my lips. "I'm sorry about what I said before, un."

"I said to forget it," he says, voice completely flat. "It's already been said."

I don't know what to say. I know he hasn't entirely forgiven me or even half forgotten it. "I didn't mean it though, un."

"Yes you did," replies Sasori bitterly. "You meant every word of it."

"I didn't. I swear, I really don't mean it. And I'm sorry; I wish I could take it back."

He turns away. "Well you can't. I know you think I'm a freak. I could see it in your face when you said it."

I am speechless, not doing anything as he starts to close the door. I feel like such a hypocrite. If anyone should be called a freak it's me. That's always been a part of my identity. Deidara the freak.

"You're not a freak, un," I say in a low voice.

He stops, door half closed. "And what makes you think you know?"

"Because I'm a freak," I answer quietly. I stare down at my shoes, hoping he doesn't ask why.

"You don't butcher your arms or try to kill yourself," he says accusingly.

"It's worse than that," I say. I can feel his eyes on me, searching for any sign of pretence. I continue to stare down at my shoes, hiding my hands behind my back. I sure he'd hate me if he knew. Most people do.

He finally says, "I guess we all have our secrets. Sorry."

I shake my head. "It's okay. I'm used to it. And there's no need for sorry. It was my fault this came up, un."

He half shrugs, walking back into his room. He leaves the door open and I take that as a sign that it's forgotten and an invitation to enter. I oblige and walk in.

**

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SASORI POV

"Stop running around would you? You're making me dizzy, brat," I say irritably to Deidara.

Deidara pauses, mid-punch. Tobi had apologised one too many times and had now reawaken Deidara's previous rage. Tobi makes use of Deidara's pause and scurries away, hiding behind Zetsu, orange mask peering out cautiously. Deidara frowns at me.

"You were watching me, un?" he asks curiously.

"No. You were in my peripheral vision."

"Well, you let him get away, un," he complains. Walking in my direction, he collapses beside me. "It's so hot."

"That's your fault for running around so much," I reply, yawning.

Deidara brightens suddenly. "Do you think if I overheat myself, I'll explode? That'd be great wouldn't it, un?"

"As long as you don't make me dirty. But knowing you, you'll probably explode all over me, just so I get annoyed."

"What? You don't care if I die? You wound me danna, un," mutters Deidara. He squints at Tobi who is running about, hands held in front. "What's Tobi doing, un?"

I yawn again. Life was really getting boring. "Do you really care?"

Shielding his eyes from the sun, he watches Tobi. "Hey, he's chasing something. That's not allowed. _I'm _the chaser; _he's _the chase-e, un!"

"You are aware that chase-e is not a word aren't you?"

But Deidara has already gotten up, stomping to Tobi. I can't hear them from here, but I can definitely interpret their exaggerated movements. Deidara waves towards himself and seems to shout a couple of things before motioning to Tobi and yelling several things. Tobi protests and points to his left. Deidara turns and his arms fall. They both stand still for a moment. Then Deidara turns back to face me, waving madly. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yells something which vaguely sound like, 'come here.' Sighing, I stand, stretching before I amble to the pair. I stare at the cause of their silence.

"It's a butterfly," I say flatly, staring at the delicate creature, resting on a cherry blossom. "Your incredibly short attention spans have been captured by a simple butterfly. I really should tell Tsunade-sama about this."

They both ignore me, gazing in awe at the butterfly. It flaps its wings once and I swear Tobi looks just about ready to faint from amazement. Deidara seems to be in a trace, completely focused on the butterfly. Zetsu drifts past and the butterfly lifts off, flying in no particular direction before settling on him. Zetsu blinks, looking slightly cross-eyed as he tries to look up at the butterfly nestled in his green hair. Deidara drags Zetsu down so he can continue staring at the butterfly.

"What's so interesting about a butterfly?" I ask, feeling a little confused. Was there something I was missing here?

Zetsu seems to be the only person able to reply. Tobi and Deidara are distracted, both pushing down on Zetsu's shoulders, leaving him in an uncomfortable position. He looks up at me with a surprised expression.

"Butterflies don't come here often. Actually, this is the first time I've seen one here," explains Zetsu.

I raise an eyebrow. "They're that rare?"

"_The poor, deprived morsels," _sneers Zetsu. "Yes, it's probably the closest thing to the outside world they can see."

"That's...just sad."

Zetsu nods soberly, causing the butterfly to take off once again. Tobi's gasps and reaches out so the butterfly can land on him instead. Deidara smirks as the butterfly flies past Tobi's finger and then he chases it as it begins to fly away. Both of them run after it, Deidara occasionally smacking Tobi away. Zetsu straightens, shaking his head.

"They really do act like children," he observes.

The wind blows through his hair making it look like grass. I wouldn't be surprised if the cow started munching on it. If there were cows in this isolated pla-

"No!"

Zetsu and I blink, turning to the source of the sound. Tobi is on his knees, apparently sobbing through his orange mask. Deidara is frozen, hands clapped together, with the look of utmost horror plastered across his face. He turns his head slowly to me, face dismayed.

"Sasori no danna!" Deidara howls. "I _squashed_ it!"

Zetsu stifles a snigger. Tobi clutches Deidara's pants, shaking him weakly. Deidara begins to walk stiffly towards me, dragging Tobi while keeping his arms as rigid as possible. Pushing his hands in between Zetsu and me, he slowly unclasps them. There is a smear of butterfly along with the wings, surprisingly intact. The blood drains from Deidara's face.

"I squashed it! I squashed the butterfly!" moans Deidara. "It's dead! Dead!"

"No kidding," mutters Zetsu. "_You stupid moron."_

Tobi slides a hand under his mask, wiping away tears. "How could you Deidara-san? How could you?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," snaps Deidara. He is still holding his hands out gingerly. "I think I should go wash my gloves now..."

Deidara flees to the bathroom, awkwardly using his elbow to open the glass door. Tobi crumples to the floor, looking dejected. Well, as dejected as anyone could look wearing an orange mask. Zetsu sighs when Tobi looks up at him forlornly before patting him consolingly on the head. Tobi taps his chin thoughtfully, seemingly over the death.

Tobi turns to look up at Zetsu. Solemn expression set on his face, he says, "I think we should have a funeral for Flappy."

I stare at him. So the dead butterfly had a name now. I vaguely wonder what Deidara would think of for the name 'Flappy.'

"That's just overdoing it, Tobi," Zetsu tells him bluntly.

"But we could just bury Deidara's gloves and we could use some of your flowers- "

"_There is absolutely no way you could ever use my flowers you stupid idiot. Why are you having a shitty funeral for a damn butterfly?" _says Zetsu incredulously. "I think my flowers could be put to better use rather than for a simple butterfly's funeral."

"Deidara has probably washed the butterfly's guts down the drain now anyway," I snort.

Zetsu shoots me a dirty glare as Tobi starts to cry again, latching himself on to Zetsu's leg. Big heaving sobs which sound rather fake if you ask me. But they were annoyingly noisy. And so I turn around and leave. Thinking about the beautifully intact wings, I imagine what I could do with them. I could use them in an artwork perhaps, or maybe as model to work off when designing. I begin to run, hoping the idiot hasn't managed to wash the wings away.

**

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**

DEIDARA POV

Scowling and wincing at the same time, I try to peel off the gloves without touching the white smear. Rather difficult. I bite the tip of the right index finger of the glove, careful to avoid the goo. Yanking the glove off, I gently lay it next to the sink, dirty side up. I pry off the other glove, laying it down next to the other. I lean forward, hands on the marble ledge, staring at my reflection. I briefly wonder if the person with empty blue eyes and messy blonde hair is actually me. Feeling slight uneasy at the reflection, I hold up both hands and stick out all three tongues. My reflection copies. I stare at the mouth on my right hand. I wonder what it would be like to kiss my own mouth. I quickly dismiss the idea in disgust.

Turning the taps on, I begin to scrub my hands, keeping the mouths firmly shut to avoid getting soap in them. They couldn't taste anything of course but the funny feeling of bubbles wasn't exactly pleasant. I shudder, remembering the horrible _squish_ sound. I scrub harder.

_Flash! A tearful reflection and the sound of pouring water._

_Flash! The pain coming from both hands; staring at hands rubbed red raw. _

I stop my train of thought. Those memories hurt, I tell myself. It's too dangerous to process them; I need fire on hand. I shiver. Turning off the taps, I flick the water from my wet hands at the mirror. Droplets scatter themselves across the surface. I stare at myself again. My reflection has two fat droplets rolling down its cheeks. I realise it's...crying.

I swiftly raise my hands to my own cheek, relieved to find it was only the reflection. I close my eyes halfway and sigh. Sometimes I just feel like lying against a wall and giving up, if only for a few minutes. I sink to the floor and crawl under the basin. Leaning with my back against the uncomfortable pipe, I draw my knees up to my chest and pull them closer, wrapping my arms around them. Resting my head on them, I close my eyes, letting out a tired breath.

_Flash!_

_Suzume__ smiles hesitantly at me. "So how have you been?"_

_I stare at her, not wanting to give her the pleasure of my response. Grudgingly, I reply, "Fine, un."_

_"Good, good." She plays with her straw distractedly. _

_I look around the restaurant, staring at the other diners. My heart leaps when I see__ the fireplace. I content myself by__ staring deep into the flickering flames. If only I could help the hot orange flames spread, consuming this place, consuming my discomfort, the tension in the air._

_"Do you think you'll be able to come home soon?" asks Suzume. She looks slightly hopeful._

_I wrench myself back to the present, replying rudely, "You're the one who put me here. You should answer your own question."_

_"Oh." She looks back down, staring at her lap.__ I feel slightly guilty at being so rash._

_"How's Jasper, un?" I ask, thinking of the big brown dog. _

_She laughs. "He still keeps me up at night, barking. He seems to miss you."_

_"H__o__w are things at work?" I ask her._

_She brightens. "It's not too bad, but I'm thinking of finding another job."_

_"Why? Did something happen, un?" I ask, confused._

_"You could say that." She smiles mysteriously. "You won't believe this Dei."_

_"What?" I ask curiously. She takes a deep breath._

_"I'm getting married!" she announces happily. _

_I feel as if I had been punched in the stomach. I choke out, "What?!"_

_"Yeah, it'__s going to be awesome. You remember Hideo?" asks Suzume excitedly._

_I feel sick. Of course I remember __him. Everything about him seems fake. But he does__n't seem like an indecent man__ either. He was always __nice to me and I hated myself for accepting him. I hated him because there was nothing to hate about him. But my sister adored him and I could see the way she seemed to light up every time he was around.__I nod my head numbly. She had to be joking right? She was joking!_

_"Well, Hideo proposed to me the day before yesterday and I said yes!" she babbles happily._

_I can barely hear her. There is a roaring in my ears and an image of Hideo pops up, face leering. It seems to say, "I've got your sister now. And you aren't going to get her back. She's mine."_

_"We're planning to have a wedding as soon as you can get out. You'll want to be there for my wedding won't you?" she asks me anxiously._

_I swallow, wanting to protest, to argue with her.__ I would rather be dead than see her get married to that man. But she's my sister and after what I've put her through, I want her to have at least some happiness in her life. And so I__ nod._

"Hey, are you alright?" asks a slightly worried voice. I feel a hand resting on my shoulder.

I open my eyes, blearily trying to focus at the curious face staring at my own. I realise I am still under the sink and I suddenly jerk awake. I glance around wildly wondering what had happened through the passage of time. I stretch my legs and scramble to my feet. Sasori is standing in front of me, watching me with interest. We stare at each other, not knowing what to say.

"H-how long has it been?" I stammer.

Sasori thinks for a moment. "About fifteen or twenty minutes I think."

"Damn." I was asleep in the bathroom for that long. Great. I can't help but feel that I've forgotten something. Something important...

"I washed your gloves by the way," says Sasori, indicating to them, now clean but rather soggy looking. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the wings. Art."

I blink stupidly. Suddenly I remember. I have no gloves on. "Shit!"

I whip my hands behind my back, face flushing. Curling them into fists to be sure he couldn't see anything, I frantically think of what to say. Sasori looks mildly surprised.

"I'm not wearing any gloves!" I blurt out. I feel my face burning with embarrassment. Yeah, Deidara, just draw attention to the problem why don't you?

"Yeah, you're not. I just washed them," says Sasori slowly as if I'm hard of hearing. Or maybe he just thinks I'm still out of it.

I think desperately about what to do, knowing I can't put on the gloves that on the bench because they're sopping wet. Maybe if I ask him to leave politely. But then he'd want to know why. I feel miserable at my pathetic choices.

"I don't suppose you could leave, un?" I ask meekly.

A new voice interrupts. "You know, you aren't supposed to be in here without a supervisor."

We both turn to the direction of the sound. Itachi is standing at the doorway, smirking at us. Extremely relieved, I mouth to him that I have no gloves on. He nods in acknowledgement. I give him a large smile when he holds out a small plastic bag to me. I grab the bag and lock myself in a cubicle. I fumble open the bag and sigh in relief as I see my spare pair of gloves at the bottom.

"Let me guess. It's that time of the month, isn't it?" asks Sasori sarcastically. "That would explain the previous violent behaviour and sudden change in mood. PMS."

I hear Itachi chuckle and I scowl, any gratefulness to him for bringing me the gloves now gone. I call out, "I hate you danna, un!"

I would love to defend myself, but that would mean telling him about my hands. And that was just out of the question. Instead, I fling open the cubicle door and storm out, gloves securely back on. Snatching the wet pair, I push them into the plastic bag with a wet squelch. I heave a sigh and pull them back out, holding them by the tip of the finger.

"Did you even try to squeeze out the water, un?" I ask, rolling my eyes at Sasori who looks pleasantly miffed.

"Be grateful I washed them brat," retorts Sasori.

I toss them at him and they slap his chest before falling into his hands. He looks down at the wet splotch on his shirt. Water drips from the gloves through his fingers and on to his shoes. I grin at him.

"Squeeze them out please, un," I say sweetly.

He scoffs at me and throws the pair at Itachi who catches them easily. He casually squeezes them out over the basin. A significant amount of liquid pours out, swishing down the drain. He suddenly whacks me over the head with them. I clutch my head and glare at him.

"What was that for, un?" I snap.

"Being ungrateful," replies Itachi coolly.

"I have gloves on! I can't just squeeze out my other pair! I'd get these ones wet too, un," I protest. "Think logically."

"You could just take them off," volunteers Sasori.

"Uh, no I can't," I say matter-of-factly. "Why do you think I put them on in the first place?"

He shrugs. "You have scars? I thought I could see something on your hands just before you woke up."

My blood runs cold. "What exactly did you see?"

Itachi glances quickly at me, I shake my head slightly. I need to know what he saw. Sasori just stares at me looking confused. My mind whispers the word _fire. _My mind bursts into images of flames, flickering, darting, dancing. They tear at my head, whispering that they could take away the overwhelming tension, the building fear. I force the thoughts away, focusing on Sasori. He is hazy through the shadows of the tongues of red, yellow and orange. I can almost smell the acrid burning.

Sasori studies me suspiciously. "I saw a red line running across your palm. Why?"

"Is that all?" I can hear my heart thudding, the smoke is fading.

"Yes." Then he adds, "It looked like my scars if you have to know."

Inwardly, I let out a sigh of relief. He doesn't know. I don't have to explain anything. How I'm going to do it in the future, I have no idea. But for now, I was safe.

"In case you want to know, dinner is about to start," states Itachi. "And frankly, I would like to eat."

"Why don't you just go?" Sasori points out.

Itachi smirks. "What? And leave a suicidal cutter along with his slightly feminine pyromaniac friend all alone? You might get up to something."

I splutter, turning to Sasori then back to Itachi, glaring malevolently at him. "I _told _you it was Bash-Deidara day, un!"

I launch myself at Itachi. He ducks and I go flying over his head.

"PMS," murmurs Itachi before hurriedly walking out the door.

I sit there, knowing I look dumbfounded. Ignoring the bruise throbbing on my head, I stumble over to Sasori.

"I guess 'suicidal cutter' _is_ better than 'slightly feminine,'" comments Sasori.

Scowling, I poke him viciously in the stomach and drag him out, not caring that he was doubled over.

**

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**

"You know, you never did tell me where you went yesterday," comments Sasori.

"Really, un?" I ask smoothly. "I never noticed."

I can see him watching me from the bed. We are in my room, Sasori lying on the bed and me on my pouffe, fiddling with a handful of clay. I have my gloves on and I am finding that shaping while gloveless, is definitely much easier. Not to mention that the clay was sticking to the gloves. I growl, mashing the clay again only to find bits and pieces falling off. I scoop up all the fallen pieces and dump them in the container. Today really just wasn't my day.

"Well?" asks Sasori impatiently. "Aren't you going to tell me what you did yesterday?"

I lean my head against the wall, watching him. "Well since you ask so politely, un."

"Yeah, yeah."

"My sister took me out for the afternoon, un," I say. I look around at the brightly coloured walls distractedly.

"You have a sister?" inquires Sasori. "I never knew that."

"Considering that you've only known me for less than two days..." I drawl. "I'd say that's understandable, un."

Sasori snorts. "You're rather easy to read you know. Deidara the open book."

"I guess you can figure out her name then, un. Try to read her name from my expression," I suggest.

"Very funny. What's her name?" asks Sasori.

I smile mirthlessly at him, remembering what we had talked about. The whole idea of marriage still makes me feel sick. "Suzume. Almost fitting. She _is_ sort of like a sparrow."

"Does she fly?"

"Not quite. I'd like to fly though. Wouldn't that just be awesome? I could just soar through the air and no one could bother me, un. It'd be _freedom_!" I say enthusiastically.

"Uh, yeah."

"You can come too if you want, un," I offer. Sasori wouldn't be too bad for company. Better than Tobi anyhow.

"Thanks, but I think I'll just keep my feet on the nice, firm ground," replies Sasori wryly.

I shrug. "Your loss, un."

Sasori changes the subject. "So what'd you do?"

I shrug again. "She took me out to a restaurant. We talked a little. Then she dropped the bomb, un."

Sasori leans forward, evidently curious. "What bomb? That's an expression right?"

I laugh humourlessly. "She told me she's getting married."

"Oh. Is that bad?"

"Is that bad?" I repeat incredulously. "Of course it's bad. My last blood relation is getting married to some weirdo. What's going to happen to me, un?"

"I'm sure you'll still be her brother. That's hard to change."

"Gee, thanks Sasori, you really know how to comfort someone, un," I say sourly.

"Anytime," smile Sasori. "What exactly is so horrible about it? So what if she's your last blood relation? They don't mean anything when you're being completely honest with yourself. Nothing at all."

There is something bitter in his voice. It's touchy subject. One of those landmine kinds. Tread in the wrong place and they go_ boom_

"I have no one else in this world. If he takes her away, I'm all alone, un," I reply softly. "Tobi doesn't count."

"Oh. I suppose that is important," agrees Sasori. He yawns and closes his eyes. "I should get to bed. Lights out soon."

"You're here for one day and you think you know everything, un," I remark.

He opens one eye, regarding me. "Not everything. Just most things."

"Same thing. You know, if you want to get to bed, you might want to move out of mine, un."

"Nope, I'm comfortable here. I can't say much about the decor, but you can't have everything." He sighs as if it were a huge disappointment.

"Okay, let me put it clearly. Get out of my bed, un."

"No. I think I'll just stay here, if it's all the same to you."

"Where do I sleep then? In your boring white room? In your boring white bed?"

"Feel free to join me. I don't really mind. You'd better not snore though. Otherwise you can sleep outside."

I can't believe my ears. He doesn't mind sleeping in the same bed? I have a friend! My first actual friend here. Tobi doesn't count here either. Feeling bubbly with happiness, I bound over to the bed and roll him over. I stare sceptically at the left over space.

"Danna, I don't think there's enough room here, un."

He sits up, shaking his head. Looking down at the indicated space, he nods. "Oh well. Looks like you have to sleep in my room. I'm too damn tired to even bother moving."

I growl and push him off the bed roughly. He crashes to the floor, waking up considerably. And amazingly recovering enough energy to hit me over the head. He stretches and yawns as I hold my sore head. Is it possible to have bruises on bruises? I had definitely lost a large number of brains cells today nonetheless.

"People would've made not so innocent assumptions if we sleep in the same bed. No matter how many times you tell them you were too sleepy to move, un," I tell him seriously.

He rolls his eyes. "Joke, brat, joke."

"Night, night. Sweet dreams sleepy boy, un," I say teasingly.

He scowls darkly at me and stalks out the door. As the door closes shut, I am sure I can see a faint smile on his lips.

**

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**A/N: **Well would you look at that. I did the last thousand words in an hour. Will wonders never cease? Oh, oh! There's plot in here too! I really liked this chapter. I felt like it wasn't too rushed and yet still wasn't dragging it on. Amazingly, for once, I am happy with my work. Now I have to do the next chapter from scratch. TT

By the way, I managed to secure internet this time, but over the next few days, I'll probably be in a no connection zone. So replies to reviews may have to wait. I hope you all found this chapter met up to the standards of the others. Until the next chapter. (Which I have to work on now...)

What? Can't you see the plot? (Points) It's right there!


	6. Brothers Bound To The Past

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N: **Hello again. I have an announcement to make. Ready? I found out about the whole idea of fanfiction through YouTube (don't ask) and then I decided to read a fanfiction story. I think the first story I read was an Itachi x Temari one, where there was quite an implication of, er, _business._ Heh. Either that or a Kankuro x Tenten one. And the first pairing I actually liked for a while was...Itachi x Sakura. Oh the shame. (No offence to those who ship the pairing. I just find it utterly weird how I even like that - there are stories that are exempt from this thought, but I've forgotten the names) Go read Tsukashi's fanfictions. That's what made me like the pairing. Of course, that's before I found out about the wonders/horrors of shonen-ai and yaoi. I haven't really shipped any het pairings since. Oh wait. I do like Pein x Konan.

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, a little shonen-ai, a smidge of blood...etc

**

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SASORI POV

I wake to a white ceiling for the third time. Swinging myself out of bed, I yawn and glance around the room. It's the same as always. Not that I really expected it to change though. But it would've been a nice thing. Especially since I have no idea how long I'm going to be here. Staggering over to the cupboard while rubbing my eyes, I open it and select a few items of clothing. Still feeling groggy, I stumble to the door and open it.

Deidara falls at my feet. I try to glare at him blearily, finding it difficult to have an irritated expression when everything is slightly fuzzy around the edges. He sits up and shakes his head.

"Just how long have you been there Deidara?" I ask, eyeing him fuzzily. Everything around him is blurry. I squint at the vaguely circular areas of blue which I am guessing are his eyes.

He gives me a lopsided smile. "A while, un. I think you snore, danna."

"Whatever." Still feeling half asleep, I step over him and head towards the bathroom. Or at least, I think the fuzzy brown rectangle is the door to the bathroom.

Deidara looks indignant at being ignored. "Wait up, un!"

I ignore him again, still shuffling down the corridor. Deidara looks back and forth from his room and me as if trying to decide which way to go. He dashes into his room and comes back out several seconds later. His arms are full of clothes and a bottle of shampoo. Skidding the turn, he rushes to catch up with me, dropping a shirt and then hastily doubling back to fetch it. Finally at the same pace as me, he juggles the bottle of shampoo from falling.

"So, early shower, un?" he asks, slightly out of breath.

"What do you think?" I reply. "Why were you leaning against my door anyway?"

"I woke up early but I didn't know if you were awake yet, un," answers Deidara cheerfully.

"And so you leaned against the door to wait for me right?"

"Uhuh."

"What time is it anyway?" I ask.

"About 7 o'clock. Why?"

"Wondering how long until breakfast."

"Oh. We have about- "

Interrupting him I say, "I can figure it out myself. Now shut up. You'll give me a headache."

The best thing about being in a mental institute is that you don't have to be polite. Nobody really scolds you and if they do, you don't have to listen to them. You barely even know them. And you could always blame it on your supposed 'mental instability.'

I push open the bathroom door, not bothering to hold it open for Deidara. Honestly, that brat could really act like a puppy sometimes. What was that thing from Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream? "I am your spaniel?" Something to do with 'beat me and I will fawn on you?" Only I'm guessing he isn't madly in love with me like that girl Helena. Or was it Hermia? I shake my head, wondering why I am comparing Deidara to a character from a work of Shakespeare. Or more concerning, why I even remember the whole 'spaniel' thing.

I leave my clothes in a cubicle and stare at my reflection. From the dishevelled, red hair to the amber eyes. Deidara's reflection joins me. I notice a similarity. The eyes. Both are hollow, dull. They scream out that something isn't right here, something is terribly wrong. I guess the eyes are the windows to the soul.

"You really do have nice hair, Sasori no danna," admired Deidara. He touches it gently. I notice with displeasure that he is slightly taller than me. How annoying; older but shorter.

"As with you and your longer than normal hair," I retort, brushing his gloved fingers away.

He pokes his tongue out and starts to take out the stiff red elastic holding his ponytail in place. He winces as it tangles. Scowling, he pulls and tries to pull the hair out of the knot one by one. He only succeeds in tangling it even more. I watch as he manages to turn a neat ponytail into a painful looking knot. He eventually stops and stares at it in the mirror in despair, not wanting to just leave it but not wanting to make it worse.

I give a sigh of exasperation. "Here, let me do it."

I don't know why I'm helping him. His pride seems to have kicked up and he looks thoroughly annoyed at having to kneel while I unpick the mess. I note that his hair was rather silky despite the knot, heavy yet still soft to the touch. It smells nice too. I don't even know why I'm noticing these kinds of thing. It's not like me.

An irritated voice sounds out. "You know, I thought I told you that you needed a supervisor to be here."

I look up to see Itachi standing there. "You always pop in unexpectedly."

Itachi shrugs. He dumps two towels in front of Deidara and pauses to stare at the knot. Wordlessly, I straighten out another bunch.

"Practising to be a hairdresser Sasori?" he smirks. He reaches down and pulls several strands out of the knot. I swat him away, concentrating on the worst part of the knot.

"Are you practising too, un?" asks Deidara with feigned politeness.

"I get enough practise with my own hair," replies Itachi dryly. "Though compared to yours, mine is significantly more manageable."

"Well if yours doesn't get knotted like this, then I'd say you're right, un," agrees Deidara.

"Or it could just be you," offers Itachi.

Deidara ignores this. "What shampoo do you use?"

The two of them bicker over brand names and types while I silently untangle Deidara's hair. I can almost hear my brain cells screaming in agony over the shampoo discussion. Finally satisfied with my work, I give the elastic a hard yank (Deidara yelps) and it comes out – along with a few strands of blonde hair.

"Ever heard of gentle, danna?" asks Deidara, glaring up at me.

I hand him back the elastic and he smooths out his hair. With the hair falling in front of his face, he really did look like a rather pretty girl. I am instantly appalled at myself. I did not just think Deidara was pretty, did I? I shake the thought from my head and abruptly grab a towel before almost running into my cubicle. Locking it with a deft click, I assure myself I only thought Deidara _looked _like a pretty _girl. _I try to tell myself there is a difference between that and thinking Deidara was pretty.

**

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**

"Does anything happen today?" I ask Deidara. "Any particular therapy? Torture? Examinations?"

"This is one of our free days. They like to give us time to reflect on ourselves, you know, think about how we feel and crap. Or maybe they've just run out of things to do, un. It's hard to tell," Deidara explains. "Tsunade-sama usually takes us in one by one to meet her on these days. You went the day before because you're new, un."

"Should I be feeling special?" I ask sarcastically. "So what does really happen on days like this?"

"Nothing, un. Absolutely nothing. Unless you want to do something?"

"I think I'll just be a spectator to the day thanks."

Naruto pops his head into the room suddenly. "Spectator to life? Tsunade-sama said that that was a symptom of DID. Do you have DID?"

"Where did you come from?"

"Well, I'm an orphan," Naruto tells us frankly.

"Oh. Should I say sorry?"

Naruto smiles cheerfully at us. "Don't worry about it. But I'm pretty sure I have parents. Well at least, I should. How else could the 'when mummy and daddy love each other very much' thing happen?"

"You could be a bastard, un," says Deidara helpfully.

Naruto scowls at him. "I like to think I have parents who did love each other. It sounds better than saying I came from a one night stand or something."

Deidara agrees. "Parents do sound better." He chuckles. "One night stand product, un!"

I am staring closely at Naruto. For some reason he suddenly seems different. His eyes have a tinge of red now, not unlike the Uchiha brothers. There's something different about his stance too. It seems...more confident. I nudge Deidara.

"Naruto looks different," I whisper.

Deidara glances at me sharply and turns back to Naruto. Naruto merely smiles at us. Not the usual carefree and happy smile he normally wears. This time there's something wicked about it. Maybe it was the way he let the points of his canines show or maybe it was the way his eyes were cold. Either way, it wasn't normal.

"You feeling okay, un? You look kind of different..." Deidara trails off as Naruto reveals the full expanse of his teeth.

"I'm perfectly fine." His tone is almost frightening. "So tell me, Sasori, how do you like it here?"

"It's okay I guess." I watch him suspiciously as he sits down next to me on the sofa.

"Really? Not too boring for you?" Naruto says in mock surprise. He leans in close to me, so close that I can see individual eyelashes. "I can brighten things up if you want."

He laughs maniacally, drawing back and looking around quickly. Deidara nudges me and gives me a look that clearly says _what the hell?_I almost want to know how Naruto could brighten things up. A little drama around here would be interesting. I almost laugh at myself. It's a mental hospital with nurses and therapists constantly on the prowl. How much drama can one little boy cause?

Sasuke walks into the room. I guess I thought too soon. I can feel Deidara tensing next to me when Naruto spots Sasuke. His smile spreads even wider while his eyes light up with a mischievous, yet not entirely pure intent. He stands up and strolls over to Sasuke. He grabs his arm tightly, digging his nails into Sasuke's skin. Naruto pulls him roughly to where Deidara and I are sitting.

"What are you doing?" asks Sasuke, annoyance written across his face. He suddenly yanks his arm back and I can see blood in the shape of four crescents. He glares at Naruto. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Naruto assures him while studying his nails, each of them sporting a thin strip of blood. He licks all four fingers, eyes trained on Sasuke.

Sasuke turns away and starts to get up. Naruto immediately grabs his arm again, raking his nails across it. Sasuke settles back down suspiciously, not sure about Naruto's current state. He studies Naruto carefully, eyes moving up and down.

"This is DID kicking in, isn't it?" he asks in a bored voice.

I look back to Naruto in surprise. He runs his tongue along his disturbingly sharp teeth in response. He asks, voice silky, "What do you think?"

"I think you're deranged," says Sasuke bluntly. "Will I need to get Shizune or something?"

"Why don't you get Itachi? Hmmm?" asks Naruto slyly. Another smile creeps across his face when he sees Sasuke freeze.

"Don't even mention his name," growls Sasuke. "Don't you dare."

"And why not?" asks Naruto quickly.

Sasuke is trembling again and when he replies, his voice is full of loathing. "Because I hate him."

Naruto's expression changes from sly to scornful. "Do you know how annoying it is, listening to you yapping on and on about how much and why you hate your brother?"

"I do not yap on and on. I don't even remember ever telling you the reason," Sasuke replies angrily.

"Well it's always scrawled across your face," sneers Naruto. "Can't you just let go of the damn thing?"

"No I can't just fucking let go of it!" snarls Sasuke. "How the hell would you feel if he destroyed your life? I can't just forget that!"

"See? This is what I hate! You whining like a freaking child, you holding stupid grudges, you refusing to just continue with life!" shouts Naruto. "Especially your self-centeredness!"

Both of them seem to have forgotten about us sitting here in the same room. With surprised faces I'm sure. Deidara is intently focused on the verbal fight.

"How would you feel if you lost your family? What if you return from running an errand and find the building with your entire family in it go up in flames? What if you could hear every scream, every cry of agony, every crackle of fire? What would you do if you knew there was _nothing _you could do, even to save your own family?" Sasuke's breathing is harsh and ragged. The words flow from his mouth in a frenzied need to just _get out_. "And what would you do if you knew who did it?"

There is silence. And then Sasuke spits, "I guess you'll never know, since you never even had a family."

"Oh you've just gone too far," snarls Naruto.

In an instant, he has seized Sasuke's shirt, pulling him close. So close that their lips almost touch. A shadow flits across his face and Naruto looks hesitant. It is gone in a moment and Naruto slams Sasuke into the wall, making the walls shudder as the force reverberates through them. Sasuke drops to the floor, coughing violently, blood trickling down his chin. Naruto bends down and drags him back up against the wall. He leans in close, eyes heavy lidded. His tongue flickers out to catch the falling crimson drops. Licking his lips, Naruto pauses before kissing Sasuke almost tenderly on the lips, leaving a slight shimmer of red. Sasuke does nothing, merely watching with dull eyes. It's almost as if he's somewhere else – either that or he's just not concerned anymore. And with that, eyes cold, Naruto punches Sasuke out cold, maniacal smile pasted on his face again. I steal a glance at Deidara and he looks as shocked as how I feel.

"He's never told me that before," remarks Naruto, uncaringly, as if he had not just punched his friend unconscious. Sasuke falls back down to the floor as Naruto lets him go. "We must be getting closer. Or maybe it was just rage?"

He turns to us and I'm almost tempted to run. But the eerie light in his eyes is gone and the goofy smile is back. He blinks and looks around as if suddenly realising where he was. He catches sight of Sasuke and visibly pales.

"Holy shit, did I do that?" asks Naruto in a frightened tone. He rips his eyes away and back to us, almost pleading. "I didn't do that did I? Tell me I didn't!"

I glance between Sasuke and Naruto. "Do you want the truth?"

"Oh, shit, shit, shit," mutters Naruto, crouching down and grabbing Sasuke's wrist, trying to find a pulse.

"I'm sure he's still alive, un," says Deidara. "You didn't really punch him that hard. You did kiss him though."

Naruto's ears turn red but he is determined to find a pulse. His shoulders sag in relief and I can guess that he found it. He grabs Sasuke's arm and tries to stand, bent over with Sasuke's weight.

"A little help please!" grunts Naruto, staggering under the bulk.

"Is it too much to ask for..." Itachi begins, but stops when he sees Sasuke unconscious. "What happened?"

"Guess," Naruto says glumly.

Wordlessly, Itachi picks Sasuke up and grimaces when there is no reaction. He is completely lifeless, almost like a broken puppet, I muse. Itachi carries him out, Naruto trailing after them sadly. Deidara turns to me, with a bizarre expression.

"Well," he finally says. "That was uh, interesting, un."

"You could say that. But I think it goes more for freakish," I say. "I guess this really is the loony bin."

"What, doesn't pyromania qualify?" says Deidara in feigned offense. "Are you saying I'm not crazy enough to make this place a mental hospital, un?"

**

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**

Deidara and I are outside, sitting under a cherry blossom tree. It's the afternoon and everyone looks sleepy, even the nurses watching us. Tobi is playing with the petals and arranging them in order of size on the grass while Zetsu watches on. Gaara is sifting through the dirt, looking annoyed while Neji is staring into space, white eyes boring a hole in the brick wall. Naruto and Sasuke are nowhere to be seen. I see Itachi walk past, behind the glass door. Sliding open the door, he heads in our direction.

"Deidara, Tsunade-sama would like to see you now," he says sounding bored. "Appointment time."

"Fine." Deidara stands up and shakes the pink petals from his hair. "See you later, un."

None of us wave. Deidara scowls and walks off without giving us a second glance. Itachi settles down next to me. He sighs heavily and stares up at the clouds, blinking lazily. I can almost see the glare of the sun off of his pale arms.

"You know, I'm curious," I say, eyeing him. "What happened between you and Sasuke?"

"You wouldn't really want to know," replies Itachi offhandedly. "It's fairly complicated."

"I can handle complicated. My life's had more 'complicated' than most people," I retort. "Probably more than yours."

Itachi snorts softly. "Yeah right. You can't get more complicated than having your family wiped off the face of the earth."

I suddenly feel cold. A distant memory flashes past. I shake my head. "You can."

Itachi narrows his eyes. "Not in my circumstances."

"Continue then."

"Why should I?" Itachi demands. "You have no reason to know these things."

"Curiosity," I reply nonchalantly. "That was your reason for knowing my scars."

Itachi frowns with annoyance. "Fine. If you have to know...don't tell Sasuke though. That'd just give him more reason to hate me."

And so he tells me. I am silent while he talks. When he finishes, I stay quiet. He smiles wryly at me.

"Complicated huh?" he asks bitterly. "But I guess a lot of questions have been answered."

I agree. "It explains why Sasuke hates you so much."

"So now what do you think of me?" He spreads his arm out, gesturing to himself. "Will you stay clear of me, just in case I might do something?"

I yawn. "Nope. You're still the same to me. It hasn't changed anything."

Itachi lowers his arms, looking surprised. "You're going to treat me as if you don't know?"

"No," I contradict him. "I'll treat you as if I do know. But there's really no difference."

Itachi raises an eyebrow. He looks away to the side. "No one's done that before. Your reaction is a first."

"There's always a first time. And besides, we're in a mental institute. There's hardly anything that can shock us patients," I say.

"I can't say I don't appreciate it," Itachi says, lips curving slightly. Then he drops the smile. "But there is no way you can tell anyone."

I frown. "Deidara will definitely want to know."

"I'll tell him when I feel the need to," assures Itachi. "Which I think will be fairly soon."

"Probably. How long ago did you say?" I ask, thinking about what the date was today.

"A year. Children can hold grudges for so long," sighs Itachi. "And perhaps forever."

"You'd better hope he forgives you by the time he becomes an adult," I say. "I guess the, uh, anniversary is coming up soon isn't it?"

"Yeah. Do you think he'll forgive me by then?" asks Itachi sardonically.

I shrug. "If you're lucky. So you and Sasuke are wards of the state now, hmmm?"

"Doesn't that sound nice. Wards of the state," mutters Itachi.

"And you work here?" I ask curiously. "Why would anyone want to do that during the holidays?"

"It's better than staying at the mansion. The silence there could almost kill you," says Itachi dryly. "Besides, I have to keep an eye on Sasuke."

"I thought the mansion was burnt to the ground?" I ask, puzzled.

"That was the holiday apartment," he replies. He falls silent and I sense that he wants the topic closed.

"I'm back! Did you miss me, un?" calls Deidara from the sliding door.

"Not a word," murmurs Itachi as he gets up and leaves me to the blonde.

"Where you going, un?" frowns Deidara, watching Itachi's retreating back.

"Preparing the ice-cream for desert," Itachi calls back.

Deidara smiles and drops to the ground next to me. "What were you talking about with Itachi, un?"

"Not much. How was Tsunade-sama?" I ask evasively. I am only half-listening while Deidara talks avidly about how annoying the questions were. I am still thinking about what Itachi told me and now wonder if everyone else here has secrets.

**

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ITACHI POV

Dinner is finished and night has fallen. Wheeling the trolley around and collecting all the plates and cutlery, I wonder whether I should've told Sasori that. Perhaps it had been a bad idea. Too late to take it back now. I start counting out the eating utensils, sighing when I find three spoons and two forks missing. At least all the plates were intact. All the patients are long gone, either in the Recreation Room or their own rooms. Sasuke was asleep, having woken briefly to tell Naruto to quit apologising. Finishing up in the cafeteria, I push the trolley away before heading to my room.

Tsunade-sama had given me a room to stay in so I didn't have to travel all the way home and then back again in the next morning. She had been worried about all the night time happenings, probably worried that I would be attacked or something. I think I am more than capable of handling a couple of muggers or such, but all that time wasted would be stupid. So, I accepted the room. It was far from Sasuke's obviously.

"Going to bed Itachi-san?" asks Shizune, appearing from around the corner at the end of the corridor.

I nod. "Are you on duty tonight?"

"Yep! I'll be going home for the weekend though," she tells me.

"We're missing three spoons and two forks again," I inform her. "I'm pretty sure that Gaara took them."

"I'll look after it," Shizune says. She glances at her watch. "Oh, it's time to do my rounds. I'll see you later Itachi-san. Good night!"

She turns back around the way she came. I stand there for a moment, not doing anything. Then I continue on my way, pausing outside my door to unlock it. My room is the only one with a lock, considering Sasuke's violent outbursts of hate every now and then. It had been Tsunade-sama's proposal. She takes safety way too seriously. I am pretty sure I can handle my little brother just as well as handling an attacker.

Flicking on the switch, I glance across the room to make sure nobody's been touching anything. It was simple and in shades of blue from a previous patient who had painted it. I kick off my shoes and fall on to my bed, eagle-spread, staring up at the ceiling. It was still white. I think through the day's events, from my morning duties to the spilling of my secret. I hadn't revealed everything to Sasori though. Certain bits had been cut out. I wasn't stupid enough to just bare my soul.

I frown. I had been rather talkative today. And yesterday too if I think about it. It wasn't like me. Maybe I should take a break. I sit up and blink as my vision clouds. Feeling slightly dizzy, I patiently wait for it to pass. I probably haven't been taking enough iron in. Or maybe my eyesight is really starting to fail me. Getting contacts wouldn't be a problem; our family had been wealthy, leaving Sasuke and I with a small fortune. I chuckle, thinking what Sasuke would do if he knew.

Opening the cupboard drawer, I pull out two photos. One is of our family, back when we were still complete of course. I study my father and mother. I had inherited my mother's hair, while Sasuke our father's. I unconsciously tug the elastic holding my hair off and run my fingers to loosen any knots. Not that there are any. I nearly miss my family. Back when Sasuke still smiled at me. Placing that photo back in the drawer, I trace the figure in the second photo. It's Kisame, with his blue hair and strange blue tinted complexion. No matter how you look at it, his skin always seemed slightly blue, like the blood running through him was frozen cold. He is grinning brightly, holding his huge sword out threateningly. It was a family heirloom which he prized deeply. I smile and wonder what he is doing now, being on holidays in Hawaii. Probably surfing. I imagine him carrying around the sword, which he so affectionately named Samehada, on a surfboard.

"I hope you're having fun..." I say quietly. I scold myself. Not only was I talkative today, but I was also talking to myself. I really needed a good night's sleep.

I remember the way he embraced me as we separated on the last day of school. It was strange, being hugged so gently by a guy who looked somewhat brutish. And then he had kissed me, softer than previous kisses. The words he had whispered in my ear echo in my mind. _Stay safe__. A__nd __please __don't overwork yourself. _I smile wryly, knowing how he would often scold me for staying up so late studying for school. He would tell me that _'you are__ making the rest __of __us,__who don'__t study look bad._' That was considering how I have never received a mark lower than 98 percent. I feel a twinge of longing, just to hold him again and forget the world, even for just a moment.

I carefully put the photo back and quietly pad back outside, looking up and down the corridor. Satisfied by the absence of people, I silent walk to Sasuke's room.

Pushing the door open slowly, I peer inside to check if he's awake or not. He is asleep. I creep inside and close the door until there is barely a strip of light shining in. Drifting to his side, I watch the peaceful face, knowing it would never be like that if he knew I was here. I sit down on the side of the bed, wincing silently as it creaks. The expression suddenly turns into a grimace, as if he knows I'm here. I brush the hair away from his forehead, smoothing out the contortion. He sighs softly, bringing a smile to my lips.

"Don't wake up," I say softly. I gaze down at him and realise just how much he's grown. It's hard to believe we're brothers by the way we act around each other.

I lean forward slowly, trying to minimize the impact of my movement. Faces barely inches apart; I can hear his breathing now. I place my hand over his chest, his strong heartbeat pressing against my palm. I suppose he's healthy then. Holding his hair out of the way, I lightly kiss his forehead, lingering for only a second and then drawing back. I stroke his cheek, a strange emotion rising in me as a slight smile graces his lips.

I swiftly leave before I have time to think about that particular feeling. Changing into my pyjamas, I turn off the light and climb into my bed. I secretly hope that one day, even if it takes years, Sasuke and I will perhaps be brothers again.

**

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**

**A/N: **(blubbers) I want a kiss too! And a hug! And ice-cream! Definitely ice-cream.

I think I'm starting to leave things late now. That is not good. I go back to school next week. If I find things too hard to keep up, the story may be put on hiatus. But knowing me, I probably will waste time writing the next chapter. I'm actually supposed to be working on schoolwork right now. See how much I love fanfiction?

Well what did you think of that chapter? I liked it and hated it at the same time. I think it's high time I start adding in some shonen-ai too. Was there reasonable shonen-ai in there? Even though it's almost unnoticeable... Does it even qualify as shonen-ai?! And I think some of the characters are going a little OOC. I kinda like them better this way, but I might have to make them IC again if it bugs me too much. Tell me what you think...


	7. What the Mind Can Do

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N: **School's back. Yay...

Sorry about the lateness of the chapter. I try to update weekly but I have failed by about what, 2 days?And then couldn't get internet on Sunday. And it turns out that I DO have a life. A life doomed to be full of schoolwork, more schoolwork, deadlines, exams and more schoolwork. Anyone wanna trade?

I've just thought/realised, I would prefer to _draw _SasoDei, rather than write. Because images are often much more powerful. But in a way, I like fanfiction better as: 1) I am much better at it, 2) Sometimes, words are more beautiful than pictures, 3) I don't feel as bad reading lemons as opposed to seeing it, 4) The use of adjectives is more descriptive than pictures, 5) Everything plays like a film when I read it, 6) Sometimes I feel as if I'm actually there and 7) You just can't really beat good, old fanfiction. Thanks to everyone out there who writes. :)

Oh and I know this is kinda late, but there was a very subtle piece of (the beginning of) important plot back in chapter 5. It's actually in here too.It is going to be used soon. Can you guess what it is? This chapter is about 500 words longer than the usual to make up for the lateness. There's a lot of POV changing and weirdness here. Beware.

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, definite shonen-ai, blood, cutting...etc

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SASUKE POV

I sit up in my bed, hands clapped over my mouth to hold back the scream that threatens to burst out. I jam my hands so tightly against my mouth that I can taste the metallic tang of blood. I am drenched in cold sweat, the sheets twisted and half fallen off the bed. I slowly remove my hands. Closing my eyes, I fall back on to the pillow, feeling my heartbeat slow again.

It was that dream again. No, it was a memory. A horrible memory. I shudder. Memories like that should not even exist. And yet, they plague me every now and then. It's a wonder I haven't already gone out of my mind. Freezing, I hear the door creak open and soft footfalls treading towards me. I relax, recognising the not so subtle movements. I don't bother opening my eyes.

"Are you awake Sasuke?" asks Naruto meekly.

I tip my head forward in a slight nod. I crack my eyes open and turn my head to stare at him, standing next to my bed looking glum.

"I'm sorry I knocked you unconscious," says Naruto, hanging his head. "I didn't get to say so earlier 'cause you were still asleep."

I say nothing; the scenes flash through my subconscious. The argument. The hot red rage. The drops of blood. The kiss. The swift punch. I beckon him to come closer lazily with my index finger. He hops on to the bed, leaning in slightly to frown at me.

"I don't know what I said or exactly what I did, but whatever it was, I'm really sorry," apologises Naruto. He adds, "Really, really, really sorry."

Still I say nothing. I moisten my lips, watching as his eyes follow the motion of my tongue.

"What did I say?" asks Naruto suddenly, eyes moving back up to stare me in the eye. "Was it really bad?"

I hesitate before answering, "Stuff about my family."

"Oh," says Naruto, realisation dawning on his face. "Oh shit. I'm so sorry, seriously. I didn't mean anything. Really, really, really, really, rea- "

He is cut off as I sling my arms around his neck and pull him down roughly. He squeaks as he loses his balance, ending up almost touching noses, supporting himself with his hands placed on both sides of my head. He stares at me, almost as if studying my soul and I can't help but feel like I'm drowning in those fathomless blue pools. He was just so innocent. I wonder if this was really the boy who had punched me unconscious before.

"You talk too much," I murmur.

Tugging him down gently, I capture his lips in a soft kiss. For some reason, they taste like citrus. I feel him smile into it and I pull him closer. He responds, deepening the kiss and smiling even wider into it.

He breaks off, seemingly unable to control the smile which has now spread so wide it looks as if his face might crack. He straddles me, light blue pyjamas rustling against the twisted bed sheets. He swallows the smile before diving back in to steal another kiss, this time heated and almost desperate. I yank him down without warning and he collapses on to me without breaking the kiss. He threads his fingers through my hair and the kiss becomes wilder, frantic. It's as if he thinks I'll disappear. Within an instant, I flip him over so that I'm the one on top. He looks mildly surprised at the new arrangement, but it doesn't stop him eagerly dragging me down to continue our frenzied kissing. And I oblige.

"Good morning Sasuke-san! Breakfast is in- " Shizune stops, looking embarrassed at walking in so suddenly.

I give Naruto one last quick kiss before reluctantly sitting up and moving off. Naruto sits up, shaking his head, with his hair in messy disarray and a wild grin on his face. For a second, I'm worried that his condition has kicked in, but he still seems normal – albeit significantly happier. He beams at me, pleased and confident that he has been forgiven. I allow myself a small smile and look back to the door. Shizune coughs awkwardly.

"I'll expect you both at breakfast in ten minutes." She gives us a wobbly smile before rushing off.

"Ten minutes?!" exclaims Naruto as what she had said clicks into place. "I still have to get dressed! Argh!"

He quickly hugs me and runs out the door. I turn around and begin to tidy my bed a little. I bend down to pull the fallen sheets off the floor and shake them out. Hearing fast approaching footsteps, I straighten back up and look to the door. Naruto is peering in, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I'm guessing we're still going steady then?" he asks hopefully.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "No, the fervent kissing just a second ago meant absolutely nothing."

He face falls and he looks horrified. I sigh. "I was being sarcastic you idiot."

"Oh," realises Naruto. He smiles impishly at me. "I knew that."

Then he turns and leaves for the second time. I shake my head, a smirk sneaking across my face. Naruto really had become like family, even able to distract me from my problems. I stop, my blood running cold. Itachi wouldn't dare to touch Naruto, would he? I wonder if he would do that, even if only to spite me. Grabbing the sheets, I pull them so hard that the entire thing flies up towards me. Gritting my teeth, I silently promise Itachi that if he ever hurts or injures Naruto in any way, he will die the instant I get within range.

**

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SASORI POV

"Who's that?" I indicate to the bored looking girl standing in the cafeteria doorway.

Deidara glances up from his plate and shrugs. "I have no idea, un. She can't be a patient. This is a guy's only ward. Imagine having girls in here when Naruto's DID butts in. Utter chaos, un."

I silently agree, still staring at the girl. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled up in a strange hairstyle; four bunches of stiff hair and a short fringe. I imagine the amount of hairspray she uses must add up to quite a lot. She is wearing blue crop top, partially obscured by a thick, light purple, midriff revealing jacket, sleeves pushed up past her elbows. Her outfit is completed with a light denim miniskirt and a pair of purple Ugg boots, tassels swinging whenever she shifts. She is holding a white plastic bag with a cylindrical shape inside.

Itachi walks over to her, holding a dirty plate. Talking with her for a couple of minutes, he seems satisfied with her excuse for being there and leaves. Calling him back, she holds up the plastic bag and I strain to hear what she says. Unfortunately, Naruto has decided at this moment to stand up and holler at Itachi to come and clean up, earning him a dark glare from Sasuke. Itachi points at Gaara and the girl nods curtly.

And conveniently, Gaara just happens to be sitting at the table next to us, trying to stare a fork down. He glances up when the shadow passes over him. His black outlined eyes narrow.

"Temari," he says acknowledging her.

"Um, hi Gaara," she answers, bored look deserting her and replaced with slight apprehension.

"Did you bring it?" he asks, glaring up at her.

She swallows suddenly looking nervous. "Yeah, it's in the jar."

She dumps the plastic bag on his table and he stares at it suspiciously. Then slowly, he reaches into it and pulls out...a jar of sand. His suspicious expression relaxes a little and he unscrews the top. Gaara scoops up a handful of the sand and lets it pour back into the jar through his fingers. He looks content.

"I'll be leaving now," says Temari hesitantly. She doesn't seem to know whether to just go or wait for Gaara to reply.

"I don't like her hair," whispers Deidara. "It's too spiky, un."

"Looking at your rather sleek hair, I have to say that I'm not surprised you don't like it," I retort.

"You think my hair is sleek?" asks Deidara looking momentary stunned.

"No, I didn't. I, uh..." I scowl, unable to think of anything that would rhyme with sleek. One that would make sense of course. Meek hair? Chic hair? Hell no.

"Ha! Sasori no danna said my hair was sleek, un!" crows Deidara.

I try to keep my face from feeling as if it were on fire. I contemplate throwing the glass of water in it. "Be quiet you brat."

Deidara laughs and I'm sure everyone is staring at us. I sink in my seat. Temari turns to us with a puzzled expression.

"Do I know you?" she asks, scrutinizing my face. "I think I've seen you before."

"I don't know you," I reply, staring at her hair. My eyes flicker down to her chest before I drag them back up to stare her in the eye defiantly.

She watches me closely and suddenly snaps her fingers and says triumphantly, "I do know you! Your grandmother is Chiyo-san right?"

I start, surprised she knew Chiyo. She really didn't seem like a person who would hang around elderly people. Definitely not, I think, casting a glance over her attire. I nod.

"I saw a picture of you in her house when our caretaker paid her a visit along with us," explains Temari. "Baki-san said that she was apparently sole owner of a large fortune. He also said that's she's a respected elder, meaning he had to drag us along."

I nod as it seems like we are talking about the same Chiyo. Then I say, "I don't live with her."

"I can kinda guess. Her house doesn't really look like a place for you," she replies, almost scornfully.

I glare coldly at her.

"So I guess you're the sole heir now? Since your parents are dead," says Temari offhandedly. "You'll be pretty rich then."

I can't hear her. I switched off the moment she said parents. My vision is pulsing again, sliding in and out of focus. Snatches of words echo through my head while disjointed images whirl past. I can't see properly anymore. Something completely different plays through my head.

_Flash!_

_There is silence. I am dizzy from pain._

_My arm is throbbing, the sting screaming up and slamming into my pain receptors. I hold my breath as the first crimson drop falls with a soft plat onto the white tiled floor. __The pain is pulsing up and down. I can feel it in every cubic centimetre of my body. It screams at me to tear at the cut oozing red, anything to __disrupt the agonizing sting. _

_I grit my teeth and lean back against the wall as another wave of pain rips its way into my brain. The throbbing is excruciating, I can feel it in the back of my eyes and my entire torso. But worse still, I can feel it in every millimetre of the slash, slowly dripping blood._

_It trickles down my elbow, winding around, leaving a trail of shimmering crimson, glistening in the bright bathroom light. The razor blade lays forgotten on the floor, a thin strip of evidence on the sharp edge. __I __shudder as another thud shakes the wall. I hold my arm up to the light, trying to concentrate of the soothing sight. _

_A scream echoes up to my ear__s followed by a resounding slap and__ the sound of a body hitting the floor. A cold tremor runs down my back, making my blood run cold. I hear an angry snarl and pleading, desperate pleading. I press my hands against my ears, unable to block the words, the anger. I press t__hem so hard that my ears hurt__Wetness trickles from my arm and down my cheek. __I hear an angry tirade of rage, half sobbing. I want to scream._

_Instead I grab the razor blade again and press it deep into my flesh__, dragging it across__. Blood spurts up, covering the silver. My fingers slip as I try to remove it. I throw it away, afraid that I have gone too far. __It clatters on the tiled floor, splattering deep red blood in thin streaks. _

_The blood is flowing down my arm, faster than I have ever seen. Fear knots inside my stomach as I watch with horror. There's too much blood. __So much. And then the feeling's gone. The familiar numb feeling envelops me and I don't care anymore. Everything is okay again. Let me bleed. Nobody cares and it's not hurting anyone but me.__ Why should __an__y__one__ care?_

_And the pain is beautiful. It agonizes, throbbing out of control. It takes over everything. There's nothing but the sting. I shudder as it travels to every inch of my body, __a roaring in my ears blocking the noise from downstairs__. It's deep. It hurts. It comforts. _

_I am vaguely aware of the crimson __pool in__ front of me, ripples spreading across the surface with every drop that disappears into it. There was a lot. There's too much. Too much red. My eyes start to hurt from the vivid colour. I realise that it's my life that's dripping out of my arm so easily._

_I stumble up and grab a roll of toilet paper like a drunken man. I collapse and slide to the floor, eyes half closed. I feel so sleepy. I could just fall asleep here. Right now..._

_I shake my head and try to unravel the toilet paper, wrapping it __around and around and around. Soon the blood flow has been stopped. I blink away the black spots and fear overtakes me as I stare at the sheer amount of blood __–_

"Danna, hey danna," calls Deidara's voice. It's so distant. Everything zooms back into painful focus.

Deidara is staring at me with a curious expression. "You still there, un?"

He sounds like he's underwater. I almost chuckle. Deidara underwater. Everything I can see is blurring again. I see Temari gaping, Gaara ignoring us, Deidara's anxious face and I feel like I myself am underwater. All the shapes are woozy, bending and swirling around.

"Hey, danna, seriously, are you okay?" asks Deidara in a concerned voice. "You look like you're about to collapse, un."

I moan as a desperate scream echoes in the background. I hear the steady _plit plat _of blood. It's driving me crazy. Crazy. Insane. Unstable. I list the words for why I'm in this hellhole. Suicidal. Cutter. Blood. I laugh, wild and out of control.

"Danna? Stop it. Don't joke around. I mean it, un," says Deidara, frightened tone creeping into his voice.

Deidara is getting blurrier. His facial features are moving around his face. I laugh crazily, feeling perfectly fine. Except for the screams echoing louder and louder. I whimper, "Make it stop!"

"Make what stop?" asks Deidara swiftly. "What? Tell me Sasori!"

I laugh hysterically again. He called me Sasori…I wince as tiny black dots appear out the side of my vision and fly at my head. They grow steadily larger and larger. I want to scream again. The sounds are getting louder. The dripping blood, the screams. It hurts my ears and makes my jaw clench. There is a shadow pain shoots through my arm. A phantom. It throbs faintly and I stare down at it, expecting to see blood. I can barely see anything through the black dots anymore. They're too big. Feeling dizzy, I try to swat them away weakly. They keep clouding my vision, making certain areas disappear. I can only see parts of Deidara's face. His eyes are so blue. And hazy. His face is hazy…

"Deidara," I rasp, reaching out to the table to steady myself. "You have blue eyes."

"I know I do, un," says Deidara, sounding confused. "Listen, are you feeling okay?"

"I feel dizzy," I say as everything lurches. I wince as a particular black dot covers more of Deidara's face. "And more than half your face is gone."

"My face?" frowns Deidara. "I think you need to lie down, un."

"Deidara," I call faintly. I hear frantic talking. I frown. It sounds like Deidara's voice.

"Danna? Danna?" asks Deidara, panic creeping into his voice.

"Deidara," I repeat, feeling dizzy. "I think you're pretty."

All the background sounds are becoming distant. Why can't I hear anymore? I try to call out, but I can't open my mouth. The floor suddenly looks very close. Deidara tips sideways, along with the table and chairs. Actually, so does the whole cafeteria. Out of the corner of my eye, I see feet. I think I'm about to collapse. I feel a sharp jolt of pain in my shoulder and the last of my vision disappears.

**

* * *

**

There is talking. I register that someone is talking. It sounds vaguely familiar. It is arguing. It hurts.

"Shut up," I say hoarsely. Opening my eyes, I hear a sharp intake of breath and the quick footfalls of a rushing person. Deidara's face enters my vision, a few strands of blonde hair tickling my cheek.

"Danna? Are you okay?" asks Deidara concernedly. He peers in my eyes. "How are you feeling, un?"

I blink, looking around my surroundings. I am in my horribly white room and it appears that I am in my bed. I look up at Deidara who is still staring at me intently. I find his blue eyes somewhat soothing. They were so blue…

"Is he awake?" asks another voice. The smell of jasmine enters the room. Shizune glances at me and quickly writes something down on her clipboard. "Would you like anything Sasori-san? How are you feeling?"

"Dead," I reply. I feel stiff and weak, as if I haven't moved for days. "How long?"

"A few hours, un," Deidara tells me as Shizune leaves, still jotting something down on the clipboard. "Actually, you missed breakfast and a therapy session, un."

I grunt in reply. Talking takes too much effort. Deidara sits on the bed and leans over me. He grabs my chin and tilts my head, turning it from side to side. I growl, too tired to resist, but still unhappy about this kind of treatment.

"Open up," he commands.

Grumbling a little, I grudgingly open my mouth and he examines it. I snap my mouth shut before croaking, "Who made you the expert?"

Deidara says nothing, instead handing me a plastic cup of water. No more glass then, I think wryly.

"Drink," he orders when I keep my lips glued together. He presses it against them until I unwillingly take a sip. The cool liquid feels good trickling down my dry throat.

He places the cup back on the top of the drawer. He stares at me and awkward silence takes over.

"What happened?" asks Deidara finally.

"I don't know," I whisper, feeling tired again. My skin prickles as I remember the echoing scream. It's so vivid that I'm almost sure I can hear it now. I cringe.

Instantly Deidara is alert. "What's wrong? What's happening un?"

I shake my head, stifling a squeak as Deidara leans in even closer. I push my head deeper into the pillow in an attempt to keep some distance between us.

Deidara looks frustrated. "Why won't you tell me, un?"

I glare at him. I ask him roughly, "Why do you need to know?!"

Deidara suddenly looks furious. "Because I want to help!"

I open and close my mouth. I have nothing to say. I should've expected this answer and I suspect I secretly did. But why haven't I got anything to say back?

"Why?" I finally say, confused.

Deidara sighs exasperatedly. "Because I'm your _friend._"

I am in momentary shock. I stare at him, wondering if he just acknowledged _friendship. _Recovering, I ask, "Why friend?"

Deidara shrugs. "I don't know." Then he adds, "You did say I was pretty just before you passed out."

I gape at him. "_What?_"

Deidara grins in a Cheshire cat kind of way. Like the cat who's just caught a very big canary.

"You're lying." I say, not able to believe I had said that. Aloud at least. My minds chants '_Deidara is__ pretty_.' I scowl.

"It has to be one of the nicest things you've ever said to me, un," comments Deidara. "Really quite unlike you, danna."

"Shut up," I say irritably, knowing that I was never going to live this down. "I was already half-unconscious, brat."

"Oh, I guess that means it was a fairly honest remark, un," says Deidara indifferently. "Considering how it would be a little difficult to lie when only half-aware of what you might say."

"Water," I say in a rather feeble reply.

He smirks and hands me back the cup. I drain the glass, relishing each cool drop that goes down and prevents the impending questions from being asked. I hand it back to him reluctantly and brace myself from the inevitable torrent. Surprisingly, it doesn't come. He merely cocks his head at my expecting expression.

"Do you want something else, un?" asks Deidara curiously. I shake my head.

A tiny voice whispers _you_ in my head but I angrily brush it away. Deidara is a friend, I tell myself. Only a friend…and now I feel sad because he is _only_ a friend. Why can't I agree on something with myself?

"I think you'll be in bed for the rest of the day. The nurses will want to keep a close eye on you for a while, un," Deidara says cheerfully. He stands up and I find myself wishing he would stay.

_Think friend. Think friend. Only a friend…_

"So I guess I'll see you later, danna," says Deidara, giving me a small wave before heading to the door. He suddenly stops and turns his head a little in my direction. I can't see his expression.

"What?" I ask, wondering if he was actually going to leave.

He looks up and I'm surprised to see a slight crimson tinge on his cheeks and a hesitant smile; he almost looks embarrassed. "Do you like me, un?"

I freeze. _What do I say, what do I say, what do I say, what do I say…_

I don't know what to say. Or what not to say. I bite the inside of my cheek. I should say no. But something is nagging me around the chest area, vaguely over my heart.

The door suddenly opens and Shizune is standing there looking flushed. Deidara jumps back looking flustered.

"Deidara-san, Suzume-san is here and she wants to see you," says Shizune, slightly out of breath. "I think she's taking you out and you need to hurry."

Deidara's expression becomes hard. He mutters something under his breath. He gives me a small smile and strides out the door, Shizune following after closing the door.

"In bed the whole day huh?" I muse to myself. I reach over to take out the journal, along with the puppet designs in them.

* * *

DEIDARA POV 

I storm through the building, annoyed at my sister. And her engagement. Actually, probably just the engagement. But that was her fault wasn't it? I decide that I'm angry at her too. I wanted to go back to Sasori. He hadn't answered my question yet. I feel a little stupid for asking though…

Entering the reception, I glare darkly at my sister. I stop, startled. She's wearing a dress. She hasn't worn a dress since after the incident. I narrow my eyes, spitefulness at Hideo growing. She obviously wore it to look good for him. I stride up to her and frown. The dress looked expensive. Since when did she have the money for this?

"Why are you wearing a dress?" I ask her finally.

She shrugs and a slight smile appears on her face. "Hideo bought it for me."

I bite back an angry retort. Instead I say, "What do you want, un?"

"Well, since Hideo and I are getting married, he thinks it would be good to spend more time together," says Suzume. "He's taking us to the city and we're going out to a restaurant for dinner."

I stare long and hard at her. She looks so happy, but I can't help the sinking feeling in my gut. I don't like Hideo and I don't think I ever will, not even if we spend the next decade in the same house. But I don't say this to her. It would almost break her heart, having to pick between Hideo and me. I'm pretty sure she'd pick me though.

I shake my head. "I don't want to go."

"Come on Dei, it'll be fun!" she pleads with a hopeful looking face.

I shake my head stubbornly again. "I don't want to go!"

She is silent. She asks in a quiet voice, "Do you want me to marry him?"

Bewildered, I ask incredulously, "Why are you asking me, un?! You're the one getting married!"

"You're a part of this too Dei. You're my brother, you'll be part of the family too," she answers softly. "By the way you're acting, it's almost as if…"

I stare at her, a voice in my head screaming, '_say no!' _I can't. I have a chance to change it but I can't. I am furious at myself.

"Where will you live? I don't think we can even fit a double bed in your room. And I don't really want you to…you know, un," I say, embarrassedly. I cringe just thinking about it.

"Hideo's got plenty of money. He told me he has a house in the richer area of town. Have you heard of the Uchiha residence? The really big property? Somewhere near there."

"Is that why you're marrying him? For the money?" I say without thinking. I freeze up, realizing what I said.

Her eyes turn hard. "Is that what you think?"

"Well…"

"How could you even think that Dei? I love him and he loves me too. I can't believe you just said that," she snaps angrily.

I hang my head, hoping she isn't too mad. "Um…sorry…"

She sighs loudly. "We're thinking of you too, Dei. Hideo and I want to send you to a good school. Somewhere where you won't get teased or bullied."

She glances meaningfully at my gloves. I unconsciously move them behind my back.

"Why don't you want to go?" Suzume asks disappointedly. "I promise we'll have fun."

_Not with him there._

"My friend collapsed earlier. I don't really want to leave him…." I trail off, glancing wistfully in the direction of his room.

"Is he okay?" asks Suzume worriedly.

"He's fine now, un," I assure her. "But he's new here."

"Oh," she says. Suddenly she brightens. "Why don't we get him to come? We'll go to our new home!"

I stare at her disbelievingly. "New home? I thought it wasn't completely decided yet, un!"

She turns red. "Well it's not _really."_

I growl. So it looks like I never did have a choice.

"Okay, okay, I've moved all our stuff there and our old house is on auction," she admits, looking off to the side uncomfortably.

"You what?!" I screech. "You just _moved everything and basically sold the fucking house?!"_

"Look, I thought it would be no problem- "

"Well you thought wrong! You didn't even ask me!" I hiss.

"I'm sorry!"

I take a deep breath. I need to calm down. Badly. "Did you take Jasper?"

"Of course." Suzume looks indignant. "I wouldn't have left without him. I know what he means to you. And me."

I nod, satisfied. I suddenly become suspicious. "What about my clay models?"

"I packed them all carefully in bubble wrap and a strong box," she promises. "I haven't unpacked them yet."

I nod again, feeling the initial shock and rage disappearing. I smile fondly at the thought of seeing Jasper again. "I'll only come if Sasori can."

Her face falls for a split second before she nods and whips out her cell phone from her bag. I note that the bag is also new. I stand there, wondering what I've just done as Suzume walks to the receptionist.

I wonder about Hideo, pondering if he will be the same. Sadly remembering the house in which I grew up in, I still can't believe she's selling it. But it harbours bad memories, so I can't say I'm not happy in a way to see it gone. I can't wait to see Jasper again though. Or take Sasori and show him all my masterpieces. I start to mentally count all my best ones.

I hear Suzume put on her professional voice, all serious and mature. I turn to see her talking quickly on her cell, obviously convincing Sasori's caretaker to allow him to come. I watch the fly zoom around impatiently. I hear Suzume zip up her new (and from Hideo, I think bitterly) bag.

"It's been arranged. I know Chiyo-san as she and I often help out at community events together. And she's one of the respected elders. I never knew she had a grandson here..." says Suzume thoughtfully. "Shizune-san said she would get your friend I need to talk with the receptionist a little more."

I can scarcely believe her. I have no idea how she got it managed so quickly. Or how she even persuaded them to let a patient who had collapsed earlier in the day go out with another friend. And with the caretaker's permission only via cell phone. But I guess she still had that air of authority around her. Probably coming from having to raise me from after the incident, three years ago. She could make Jasper and me shut up with one look if she wanted.

**

* * *

**

SASORI POV

Grabbing a thin pullover, I follow Shizune hastily through the corridor. She stops and points down another.

"The reception is just around the corner," she says. "I have to go to the Recreation room now, but you can't really miss it."

I nod and she rushes off. That woman is always in a hurry. I shove my hands in my pockets and amble down, not bothering to go quickly, seeing as it was probably Grandma Chiyo.

"Hey."

I whirl around to find Neji leaning against the wall looking bored. He is watching me with those white eyes.

"What do you want?" I ask rather brusquely.

He raises an eyebrow. "Deidara missed art therapy because he wanted to be there when you woke up."

I blink. This wasn't what I expected.

"He doesn't ever miss it. He almost blew up the cafeteria in rage when it was cancelled once," continued Neji.

I say nothing.

"He likes you," says Neji simply. "A lot more than what people would consider normal. I suggest you return your own feelings too."

"What feelings?" I ask, playing dumb while ignoring my heart which had leapt upon hearing "he likes you."

"You are stupid aren't you?" says Neji disdainfully. "We all heard you say he was pretty."

I flush and he smirks. He pushes himself off the wall and strides in the opposite way I am going.

"Preferably sooner rather than later," he adds without turning around. "I don't want to be caught in the explosion when Deidara detonates from frustration."

I stare at his back numbly. My mind chants gleefully. _He likes you and you like him, he likes you and you like him, he likes you and you like him..._

I allow myself a small smile before continuing. I enter the large reception and am mildly surprised to see Deidara staring at hole in the wall.

"Hello."

Deidara turns around and blinks at me. "That was quick."

"Shizune-san said someone was taking me out for the rest of the day. I was assuming it was Grandma Chiyo," frowns Sasori.

"Suzume wants to take us to my new house," explains Deidara. "She thought it would be nice if you could come along."

I shrug, giving him half a smile. "Better than here."

A woman with a striking resemblance to Deidara walks towards us.

"This is my sister Suzume," Deidara says, introducing us. "Suzume, this is Sasori."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **So how do you think that worked out? Think I'm finally getting to a point with the possibility of plot progression. Eek. Alliteration.

Anyway, I really don't have much to say. Except that life is still being horrible and I have a nice fat pile of schoolwork waiting.

Luck33ang3l: (blinks at the mountain of work looming high above her head with vultures waiting for her to collapse) Umm, any bids for this magnificent erm...thingie?


	8. Is This Going To Be Home?

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N: **I seem to be getting a little bored with this story. Maybe I can get my friends to badger me to (almost) death. But you have no idea how much I want to write the sequel. I'm tempted to abandon this one for the next. Of course, then the sequel wouldn't make much sense.

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, verbal fights, confusing descriptions...etc

**

* * *

**

SASORI POV

I cast my gaze over Suzume. Her long, rich blonde hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail, mid height. Her face was framed with an uneven fringe. She was slender with a tall build. She was wearing a light pink dress than stopped just before her knees. I notice that she has the same eyes as Deidara.

"Hello," greets Suzume, holding out her hand.

I slowly reach out and shake it. "Hi."

"I take it that you're Deidara's little friend?" asks Suzume, smiling. "Deidara doesn't make many friends. Actually, make that rarely. I think you're his first friend his age."

I blink. I had no idea Deidara was this antisocial. He scowls at Suzume, who giggles and fondly pats his head. He slaps away her hand, looking cranky.

"Should we get going now?" asks Suzume.

I shrug. She walks out the front door and I pause before stepping out. Shielding my eyes against the glaring sun, I look around, wondering in slight awe that this was freedom. I could just run if I wanted. Deidara grasps my hand as if he knows what I was thinking. He tugs me down the steps and across the gravel footpath. We both climb into the car as Suzume starts the engine.

"Seatbelts," calls Suzume, adjusting the mirror.

Deidara and I obediently reach for our seatbelts and click them in. I felt a little strange. Like I had been missing something for a while.

"You haven't taken me out for ages, Suzume," comments Deidara, watching out the car window.

"I've been busy, Dei," replies Suzume. She focuses on the road and speeds up once we get out of the car park.

"Too busy for your little brother?" asks Deidara sullenly. He turns to look out the window.

Suzume glances sharply at him through the mirror. "You know why I was busy, Deidara."

Deidara falls silent, watching the flashing countryside. We drive over a crest and suddenly, the city is below us in the valley. I've never seen it from this altitude. It was larger than I thought.

"Is it far?" I ask. I wonder where Grandma Chiyo's house was.

"Hmmm? It's over on the other side of town."

I hear Deidara give a soft sigh. I almost ask him what's wrong. But that wouldn't really be like me. He'd probably ask me in turn what was wrong with me.

"Is Hideo home?" asks Deidara suddenly, voice sounding a little angry.

Suzume narrows her eyes, but chooses to ignore the tone. "Yes, but he probably won't be home until later. You can met him then."

"Oh goodie," mutters Deidara under his breath. Suzume ignores him.

"Who's Hideo?" I ask, curious.

"You don't want to know, un."

"Oh shut up Deidara," snaps Suzume irritably. "Stop being so hostile."

"Why should I?" Deidara fires back. "You can't stop me. Freedom of speech, _sister."_

"I am sick of you always acting like Hideo has done something wrong," snarls Suzume, eyes still on the road. "You haven't even given him a chance!"

"I don't need to, un."

I feel somewhat out of place at the moment. I shift uneasily in the seat, trying to distract myself with something out the window. I didn't generally like verbal fights.

"If you could just accept him- "

"But I don't want to! I just don't like him. How do you know he really loves you?" accuses Deidara.

In the mirror, I see Suzume press her lips tightly into a thin line. "Just shut up Deidara. You and I both know he loves me."

"No I don't," says Deidara quietly. Suzume pretends not to hear him.

Deidara slouches against the seat, sullen again.

"Hideo and I are getting married and that's that," continues Suzume.

"I suppose my feelings about it were never really important were they?" sneers Deidara. "You had no plan of even considering them. Just a formality?"

Suzume doesn't answer. Deidara ploughs forward, intent on driving in as many nails as possible.

"Looks like you don't really care about me anymore do you, un?"

"Dei..."

"And I suppose Hideo has replaced me. So what am I now? A leftover?" asks Deidara viciously.

"Deidara..."

"It's all about Hideo now isn't it? I'm not a just leftover. It seems as if I'm invisible. That true, un?"

"Come on, Dei..."

"Oh no. That can't be right. Invisible people are still there right? It appears that I don't exist, un," concludes Deidara, angry smile pasted wide across his face. "How's that sister? Has my place in your life been taken?"

"Look, Deidara- "

Deidara laughs nastily. "It's Hideo isn't it? He's taken my place and you're more than happy to allow him, un."

Suzume pulls the car to the side of the road, slamming on the brakes. Twisting around in her seat, Deidara looks shocked to see tears slipping down her cheeks. Her eyes are red, glistening trails running down her face.

"Do you think it's been easy for me? Tell me that Deidara. Do you have any idea how what you did affected me?" asks Suzume in a choked voice.

Deidara shrinks away, unable to look her in the eye.

"Do you think I've just forgotten you? After what you did? Do you know how hard it was, living through that, supporting you?"

She stares at him, her eyes reflecting him. Suzume drags in a shuddering breath and slowly turns back to the front.

Deidara looks back out the window, his reflection blank with a shadow of sadness. I silently watch. I don't think they even remember my being here.

"When you can answer me, you have the right to your opinions. At the moment, keep them to yourself," says Suzume, voice a little strained.

The car starts forward again and we start to pass the first few houses. Driving through the outer and then the inner suburbs, a blanket of silence has over taken the atmosphere. We seem oblivious to the traffic outside, cars honking and zooming past.

Gradually, the loud noises of the inner city fade and are replaced with the quiet suburban environment. As we pause at a set of traffic lights, I sneak a glance at Deidara. He is still staring motionlessly out the window. He seems to be lost deep in thought.

I ponder about the argument. What exactly had Deidara done? And who was Hideo? Besides being Deidara's object of hate and Suzume's apparent fiancé. But why would Deidara hate him so much? Was he that bad? My eyes travel down Deidara's figure, stopping at his hands. Why were they gloved? It seems that there's a lot more to Deidara than the outside.

I am jerked out of my thoughts as the car rolls over a bump on the road, jolting me. I look up and see that we have pulled into a driveway. I gape at the sight. Even Deidara looks stunned at the sheer size. It was huge. Bigger than huge. Looked like a mansion.

"That is freaking huge!" breathed Deidara. "Am I supposed to live here?"

Suzume nods, pleased and looking almost relieved at his reaction. "Go inside if you want."

Deidara eagerly dashes up the front stairs and beckons for me to follow. He stares up at the oversized doors and then looks to the bell on the side. Hesitantly, he places a hand on the doorknob. He stays like that for a minute, Suzume and I waiting. It's as if he both wants to open the door and at the same time, wants to refuse it. Like he's struggling with the decision to accept something from Hideo or not. I hear him sigh softly and turn open the door, swinging it in without a sound.

**

* * *

**

DEIDARA POV

I stare in the enormous room. The entrance had marble flooring a spiral staircase to the right. There were a couple of steps going up, leading to what looked to be the main living area, further into the back of the house. I stumble inside, sweeping my gaze from side to side. It was like a split level, but only with one actual split level and a proper staircase. Directly on the left was an elevated formal living and dining area. A few empty boxes were scattered around it. To the immediate right was a small series of steps and an raised walkway with several doors going around behind the staircase and to the steps leading to the main living area.

It was an open first story and I could see another living area behind the banister. There was a walkway left and right of that area, both with a number of doors on the wall. It seemed to be carpeted as opposed to the marble on the ground floor.

Stepping into the middle of the entrance room, my footsteps echo through the almost empty area. I turn around and wait for Sasori to join me. I tilt my head back to find a crystal chandelier above my head. Sasori gives a low whistle.

"It's big," he comments, looking around.

"Do you like it?" asks Suzume, walking in and closing the door behind her. It shuts with a resounding _click._

I nod. "Where's my room?"

Suzume points up to the first story to the second door, left of the living area. "Hideo and I will have a room on the other side. The bathroom and toilet is at the very end of your side."

I pull off my shoes and leave them by the door, keeping my socks on. Sasori copies and I start to climb the stairs as the thought that I was going to live here sunk in.

I place my hand on the cool banister, letting it drag behind as I take each step up. Out of the corner of my eye I see Suzume watching, almost anxious for my approval. I smirk. Like I was going to give her that pleasure. I think about what I had said earlier and slight guilt washes over me. I relent.

"It's a nice place, Suzume. I..." I struggle to find the right words. "...could deal with living here."

She beams at me. "I'm glad you think so."

I give her a half-shrug. Her shoulders have straightened and she's giving off that air of confidence. Oh, she's definitely happier now. I won't blow the sudden good mood. Reaching the top of the stairs, I look around, taking in every square millimetre.

"Hey Dei, I'm going to go to the kitchen okay?" asks Suzume. "Um, behave yourselves up there."

I freeze. "Just what are you implying, un?"

"Erm...nothing. Gotta fix lunch, have fun!" Suzume quickly walks out of sight underneath the first floor. I peer over the railing while scowling.

"I think she was implying that we are in a relationship," says Sasori flatly from behind me. "And she doesn't want us to have sex in your room."

I turn to Sasori, eyelid twitching. Did he have to be so blunt about it? "I don't think that was in our present minds, danna. At least for me. I dunno about you, un."

"Are _you_ implying that I'm a horny pervert?" asks Sasori in mock horror.

"Quite possibly, yes," I say as I breeze forward to my bedroom door. "Behave yourself won't you danna?"

I open the door and gesture for him to go in.

He smirks. "Ladies first, brat."

"As long as you don't violate _delicate_ and _fragile_ girls like me," I say sarcastically. "Or you may have to adopt after I retaliate."

His eyes widen, pretending to be insulted. "A gentleman like me would _never _even think about such things. I don't plan for children either."

"What, you refuse a beautiful _female_ like me?" I ask, putting on a disbelieving face. "You wound me."

"I never said anything against you. You can't have children, so you don't exactly cou- " Sasori stops, realising what he'd said.

The easy conversation comes to a standstill as the awkwardness of the subject dawns on us. I step inside and he silently follows. It was fairly big with a double bed to the side, a bigger than needed desk on the other and a huge wardrobe in the corner diagonal to the bed. Curiously looking around, I find a large plasma TV on the wall in front of my bed. There were a couple of empty shelves next to the wardrobe too. Along with a large cardboard box with the label, "FRAGILE," across it.

I bound over to the box; pretty sure it contained my artworks. "Hey danna, want to see a masterpiece in the making, un?"

He shrugs and takes a couple of steps closer. I grin and carefully opened the top, peering inside. I gently peel back the bubble wrap. The first model I see is one of my favourites. I slowly draw out the clay bird, one that I had worked on for roughly two months. It would be one of my best masterpieces.

It was roughly the size of my cupped hands. It was actually a model of an eagle and quite accurate if you ask me. Its beak was slightly open, wings half spread, looking as if it were about to take off. The talons did take me a long time to do though. And etching in all the feathers. I was rather proud of it. The sculpture wasn't completely finished though. Still had to go through the final stage: detonation.

"Is that it?" asks Sasori, staring closely at it. "May I?"

I hesitate, before placing it in his outstretched hands. He holds it up to the light and thoroughly examines it. He strokes the edge of the wing, looking pleased for some reason.

"What do you think, un?" I ask, hoping for his approval.

"It's..." Sasori struggles to find the right word. "...good."

"Good?" I echo. "You obviously don't appreciate professional art, un."

"I do, it's just...well, you're going to blow this up aren't you?" asks Sasori glumly.

"Of course. How else do you think I finish them, un?" I say, snickering. "Leaving it on the self to gather dust is just plain stupid."

"What's the point of art that's not there anymore?" scoffs Sasori.

"Why does it still need to be there to enjoy it?" I fold my arms deftly over my chest.

"So other people can see it," replies Sasori. "And appreciate it too."

"I'm the only one who needs to appreciate my art! That what makes it special. Only a few people do get to see it at its fullest. Art is a once in a life time thing. There's no point in art if anyone can see it, un," I say incredulously.

"Art is something that everyone should see, so everyone can appreciate it. If only a few people see it, where's the pride from making it?" Sasori retorts.

I sigh. "It's no use explaining to you, un. You just won't be able to see my art as it's meant to be."

Sasori throws me a dark glare and continues to examine the bird. I can tell that he likes it. I smile a little, happy about that fact.

"Here. I know it's somewhat useless to even bother asking, but please don't blow it up," says Sasori.

I stand there, reaching out for the bird before stopping, fingers just millimetres from the sculpture. I nibble the bottom of my lip, unsure of what to do. I want this artwork. It was one of my best. But...there was a funny nagging feeling somewhere in my head. I take a deep breath, before letting it out slowly. I was going to regret this.

"Have it, un," I say, not meeting his eyes.

He glances up at me sharply, looking incredulous. "What?"

"Have it, un," I repeat. "You can have the sculpture."

His fingers look as if they are about to fold over the sculpture and claim it as his, but he hesitates. He looks between my stoic face and the clay bird.

"Are you sure?" he asks, fingering one of the wing feathers.

I nod. I think about how my beautiful artwork might spend something close to eternity sitting on a shelf. It seems like such a waste of perfectly good, although not completed yet, art. But Sasori did look significantly happier. I suppose that evened things out. Still...I sigh, half saddened.

"Thank you," a small smile twitches at Sasori's lips. "Could I keep it somewhere first? I don't want to break it."

"You're lucky I haven't put the explosive chemicals in yet, un," I mumble, suddenly regretting the decision to give it to him. "Just leave it in my room until we go back. Unless you want to make a break for it, un?"

"And then be dragged back and strapped down to the bed? I don't think so."

I shrug. "Have it your way, un. I'll probably run for it if they don't let me out soon."

"Don't let them catch you saying that. Or I'll have to visit you when you're chained to the bed."

"Well wouldn't you like that, un?" I say sarcastically. "Me, tied up and helpless. At your perverted and sadistic mercy, un."

He scowls and tosses the artwork up high at me. Aghast, I spin around to catch it as it flies behind me. Snatching it out of the air, I twist sharply back to face Sasori. And of course, I trip over the cardboard box. The bird flies back up in the air and it gently caught by a slender, pale fingers. Sasori smirks down at me and I glare back malevolently.

"And I'm sure you'll like it too, brat," he says, wicked smile spreading across his lips.

**

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**

SASORI POV

"What would you like for lunch? Is miso udon okay?" asks Suzume cheerfully.

Deidara nods. "But I'm hungry now."

"Then raid the refrigerator," retorts Suzume, turning away to rummage through the cupboard.

"Okay, fine. Don't feed me, un," sulks Deidara. He saunters over to the fridge and scowls as he looks through the contents.

"I'm the one cooking here. If you want a proper meal, I suggest you don't provoke the cook." Suzume waves a spoon at him threateningly.

Deidara dismisses it with a wave and peers in the cupboard, not so inconspicuously shoving Suzume out of the way. She yelps and aims the spoon at him. Deidara ducks, disappears into the cupboard and reappears with a packet of cookies. He smirks and dances out of reach.

"Hey, where's Jasper, un?" asks Deidara, glancing around and opening the packet.

"Jasper? Oh he's outside. We've got the fenced backyard and then quite a bit of rural property behind it."

"Just how big is this place, un?" asks Deidara in amazement. He offers me a cookie.

I take it and nibble a little off the end. Swallowing the tiny piece, I realise just how hungry I am. Seeing as I haven't had breakfast. I hope Suzume cooks fast.

"Really big. You'll have a hard time getting bored," Suzume tells Deidara. "Why don't you go find Jasper? Or at least, try to find him."

"I wonder if he misses me..." muses Deidara, walking in the direction of the sliding door.

I follow him outside onto a large porch with an awning. We both stare.

The whole place is full of colourful flowers, hedges and trees. The grass is so green it looks like something out of a picture book. There are dark green vines creeping up the poles holding up the raise porch. To the left of the door, there were stairs going down to a pool, the aqua blue water reflecting the nearby greenery. The actual porch had a outdoor dining table with plenty of chairs. There was a barbecue in one corner and many fluorescent lights all around. On the right was another set of small stairs leading to the actual garden.

There was a hedge going around the edge of the porch and rows of multicoloured roses in front of them. The garden stretched down quite a few metres, the entire edge bordered with a close growing hedge. There were a small group of cherry blossom trees standing in one corner and a water feature in the other. And in the middle of the other end of the garden was a hedge archway, tall wrought iron gate barring the way.

"This place is like a freaking rainforest, un!" says Deidara, eyes wide as they take in all the shades of green and all the different features. "How am I supposed to create art _here?_"

I freeze as I hear a loud bark. "Hey, brat, I'm guessing Jasper is a dog right?"

"What do you think he is? A rabbit, un?" scoffs Deidara.

Suddenly, a brown blur hurtles out of nowhere and tackles Deidara to the ground. With me, unfortunately, behind Deidara and therefore also tackled to the ground.

"Oof!" Deidara's voice is muffled behind a tangle of brown fur and joyful yelping.

"Holy shit, is that a dog?" I say, still trapped under Deidara and the dog, intent on licking every inch of Deidara that he could.

"What does it look like?" answers Deidara gruffly. He grabs the dog and pushes him off, panting and he sits up.

"Deidara," I choke, feeling my face going red. Possibly from lack of air rather than embarrassment. "You're sitting on my chest."

Deidara immediately stands; flushing furiously, own face flaming red. Jasper takes the chance to tackle him back to the ground. Deidara gives another muffled yelp as the happy licking continues.

"Sasori! Help me damn it, un!" shouts Deidara, desperately trying to fend off the overexcited dog.

"Nope. I'm enjoying this," I tell him smugly.

"You sadistic freak! Jasper, get off of me!" howled Deidara.

Reluctantly, Jasper moves off, but not without giving Deidara's face a final lick. Disgusted, Deidara wipes his face with his arm.

"Nice to see you again, Jasper," says Deidara, ruffling the dog's ears.

Jasper promptly rolls over and watches Deidara expectantly. Deidara sighs before leaning over to scratch his belly.

"What kind of dog is he?" I ask curiously. Most of the animals I knew were the ones containing some sort of poison. And dogs weren't generally poisonous.

"He's a kelpie cross border collie. Brown fur from the kelpie, coat length from the border collie, un," explains Deidara.

"How long have you had him?"

Deidara thinks for a minute. "About seven or eight years, un. He's been my best friend ever since I got him."

"I'd have to say that's pretty sad."

"Don't rub it in, danna," murmurs Deidara quietly.

I fall silent, studying the blonde boy. He says nothing, just stroking the underside of Jasper's head.

"Lunch is ready!" calls Suzume.

**

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**

DEIDARA POV

"Suzume, I'm going to take a look around the garden, un," I call as I grab my shoes and run out back door.

"Don't go too far. If you run, I'll have the entire police force searching for you," warns Suzume. "Oh, Sasori, would you mind staying behind? I'd like to talk to you."

Sasori shrugs and takes another sip tea from his mug. I sigh and stomp outside.

"Hey, Suzume, I'm taking Jasper okay?" I yell and not bothering to wait for an answer, I whistle for Jasper.

He bounds up to me, tongue hanging out lazily. I stumble to the iron gate and sneeze several times as the pollen in the air gets to me.

"Shitty flowers, un," I mutter. Fumbling with the gate, I find that it swings open quite easily and I slowly walk out. The environment is a sharp contrast to the garden behind me. Now it's desolate and empty. There are only tall trees and a dirt track with undergrowth on both sides.

I could run now. I could run and they'd never find me. Perhaps my corpse if they're lucky. But I don't. A particular redhead keeps popping into mind. I groan. Why can't I get the damn boy out of my thoughts?

Jaspers barks loudly and bounds on ahead. I crane my neck to watch him before realizing-

"Shit! Jasper, wait for me!" I yell frantically, crashing through the bush. Speeding up, I feel a rush of relief when I spot Jasper's brown tail.

I tear around a bend on the dirt track and a horse rears up before me. Its hooves paw the air in front of my face.

I swing back and land on my back. Jasper rushes up to me, whimpering. I sit up and groan, shaking my head.

"Serves you right," calls a voice.

**

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**

**A/N: **So how was that?

Starting from the post date of this chapter, it will now be on hiatus. This is because I seem to be unable to tear myself away from it. I am banning myself from all things related with the exceptions of: review replying, friends and reading a few fanfictions in times of great stress. Otherwise, I won't be able to stop and will most certainly fail my tests and upcoming assignments.

(sniffles) This is the last chapter for now. Later.


	9. Adding Strangers and a Just Little Love

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N: **I am annoyed to say that the fanfiction ban did not work at all. It did absolutely nothing. I was reading fanfiction all during school, thinking about fanfiction during the testss and mused about this story after each assignment. I fail at life.

Anyway, here's the chapter. Sorry about its lateness – it was supposed to be out a couple of days ago. However, reading over the past few chapters, I'm appalled at how my writing style has changed. So I devoured many a favourite book and focused on finding inspiration, plotting out speech and scenes in my head and basically getting back into my writing rhythm. I'm sorry if there are any abrupt style changes. I'll tell you now that the person on the horse is not who it was going to be originally. Thank goodness I found a more logical character. XD

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, shonen-ai/yaoi, angst...etc

**

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**

DEIDARA POV

I look up to see a blue-haired girl sitting on a black horse. She is dressed in black and has thick eyeliner on. She isn't wearing a helmet and instead has her hair partially pulled up and secured by a flower. There is an unconcerned haughtiness in the way she regards me.

"If you haven't noticed, you almost killed me, un."

The girl snorts. "What, am I supposed to look out for idiots running out of nowhere at me?"

I roll my eyes. This was just brilliant. She narrows her eyes.

"What are you doing here? This isn't just public land for everyone's use. Get lost before I shoot you."

"Where's your gun then?" I sneer. "Up your horse's bum?"

"No, that's where your head will go once I do shoot you." She nudges her horse closer and leans down to peer at me. "You sound male, but look female. Which are you?"

I scowl, fighting the urge to just knock her off her horse. "Are you too stupid to figure it out, un?"

"You're the one with the gender confusion problem," retorts the girl.

I sniff and haul myself up, dusting off the back of my pants. She studies me closely.

"How old are you?"

"15, un."

"Male then," she decides.

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"No breasts," replies the girl pointedly.

"Well, you're pretty flat-chested yourself, un," I say nastily. Stupid thing to say really…seeing as it's a lie. She wasn't flat-chested at all. Not a patch on Tsunade-sama, but still definitely not flat-chested.

The girl straightens herself up, glaring at me. "Get lost before I really do shoot you."

"I happen to _live _here; _you_ shouldn't be on here in the first place, un."

_Bingo._ I smile as her face falls for a split second. Her bluff was gone. She leans forward again, forced smile on her face.

"Oh, you live with Hideo?"

I am wary. "Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since now, un."

She sighs. "Don't tell me he adopted you or something equally shitty."

I pull a face, instantly regretting how childish it was. She smirks.

"I haven't seen you around before anyway," she says thoughtfully. "I'm Konan."

I hesitate, before replying. "Deidara."

She nods, still thinking. "If not adopted, then _why _are you here?"

"Sister's going to get…married to him."

Konan raises her head, watching me carefully. "Keep on his good side."

I laugh mirthlessly. "I'm not stupid."

"I would've never guessed."

"You don't like him, un?" I ask curiously, ignoring the insult.

"Not everyone likes a police officer."

I realize how little I knew about Hideo. Sure I researched about him, but I obviously forgot the big details. Typical of me. "Don't most people like police officers? With all their good for the community crap?"

"You said it yourself you know. _Most _people like them. Pein and I aren't _most _people."

"Pein?"

"He's my…friend," says Konan, secretively. "Beyond that, there's nothing else I'm allowed to say."

"Allowed to say, un?"

"We don't get along very well with police officers. They don't agree with, well, what we do."

I nod wisely. "Ah, I get it. You're _criminals_."

Konan smiles slightly. "I wouldn't call it that. But close enough, if not a little harsh. They can't blame us for some of the things we do, for lack of evidence."

"Should you be telling me this, un?" I ask, tilting my head.

She shrugs. "We do plenty of things and we don't see the point of covering it up. Unless it has the potential to put us into a detention centre, of course. We conceal as little as we have to, leaving only what can't hold itself up in court."

"Sounds like fun. I suppose, in a weird and possibly law-breaking way, un," I reply dubiously. "I still don't see why you're telling me this, un."

"We're always on the lookout for possible members." Konan shrugs again. "I guess I'll see you at school then. Year?"

"11 I think. I haven't been to school for ages. And don't expect to see me, un."

"Why not? I think Pein might want to meet you."

"I, uh, am a pyromaniac, un," I confess. I smile sheepishly at her.

"Oh." She frowns. "Fire-obsessed then?"

"I lean more to the explosive side, but still fire, un."

She smirks, showing her canines. "Sounds interesting. So I'm guessing you're at that psychiatric ward just outside of town? Why don't you run while you have the chance? You could stay with us."

I stare at her disbelievingly. "You don't even know me and you offering your place for me to stay? And you know Hideo is a police officer, un?"

Her smile widens. "You'd be a valuable asset in our group. And I already said we don't give a shit about the rules. We play our sins and we play them well."

I mull over it for a minute. It's outrageous, I know, but freedom does have a strong call. And after the shock of the new house and life, I can't say the beckoning of a more exciting life has no effect. Another thought suddenly pops into mind and I grimace. This was happening more and more often now.

"I'll have to say no," I say.

Konan moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue, looking unworried. "You'll join us one day. We have plenty of time."

For some reason, a chill runs down my spine at her words. I begin to edge away. She stares directly into my visible eye.

"Can I ask why not at this time? I can see you haven't completely out ruled the option of running now."

"I have someone waiting for me back at the house, un."

"Another patient?"

"Yeah."

She laughs. "Don't tell me. You have a girlfriend from the hospital?"

I blush furiously at that thought. _Sasori no danna would kill me if he heard this…_

"_She _would actually be a _he, _un," I correct.

"Oh? You're gay then?" asks Konan, eyeing me intently. "Or bi?"

I freeze. Could I? Don't tell me the reason I couldn't stop thinking about Sasori is because I…I actually, literally _like_ him. This new possibility hits me like a steamroller. Sure I had joked about it, but seriously? _Why hadn't I thought of this before?_

Konan's horse tosses its head, impatient to go. She pulls on the reins, wheeling the horse around. Konan glances at me. I am still bewildered at the idea. Gay or not? Or bi?

"I should get going now. Pein expects me at about this time."

Konan waves lazily as she loosens her hold on the reins, allowing the eager horse to prance forward before taking off in a flurry of black and blue. I stare, not knowing what to do. I look around and find Jasper sitting patiently next to me. I ruffle his ears ruefully. I had forgotten he was there.

We begin the trudge back to the house. I wasn't about to call it home yet.

**

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**

SASORI POV

I lean my elbows on the table and rest my chin on the clasped fingers. Suzume sips her tea, watching me from the other end.

"It was nice of you to make friends with Deidara," she says, eyes trained on my face.

I give her a half-shrug. "It's not like it was a decision."

She nods thoughtfully. "Deidara doesn't make many friends. You may have already gathered that from the fact that his best friend is Jasper, a faithful, but mere dog."

I say nothing.

"You could partially blame it on the fact that Deidara typically prefers no friends. Normal people mostly ignore him anyhow."

I stare at her disbelievingly. That fact was hard to accept, seeing as how he had basically forced himself upon me. I get a mental image of depressed Deidara, dressed mournfully in black, sitting at the corner of a gutter. Not likely.

Suzume takes another sip of tea. "Deidara has many secrets. Don't be shocked when he does decide to tell you – just be prepared. And as his sister, I'd like to say, break off the friendship _now_ if you have any doubts about your ability to cope with his secrets."

I snort quietly. _He _has secrets? Don't we all?

Suddenly she looks up, staring directly into my eyes, piercing straight through. I blink nervously, feeling uncomfortable.

"You aren't, well, _doing things_with him, are you?" she asks suspiciously. "After all, you've only known him for less than a week."

I had to consciously think about keeping my jaw shut. A blush crawls up my face. _Where the hell did that come from?_

"Because, I mean, if you're in a _relationship_ with him, that's fine. Just, _you_ may be at _legal age_, but _he_ isn't. And I personally think you're both a little young for this. Not to mention the _issues _both of you have," she continues.

Apparently, she is oblivious to my twitching at every emphasized word. _Legal age? Issues?_

"I don't want you to do anything inappropriate to him at this stage," she says, seriously.

I sit there, frozen in mute shock. All I can manage is: "…inappropriate_?"_

She waves a hand. "You know."

I continue to stare at her, stunned.

Suzume sighs heavily. "Inappropriate meaning: _having sex."_

I suddenly choke on my saliva. She regards me coolly.

"Was that too blunt?"

"Er…let me reassure you we haven't done anything like that…?" I offer uncertainly. I add to myself sourly, "_Much less even thought about it…."_

She brightens and the mood becomes cheerful again. "That's good. You seem like a good person to be friends with."

I sincerely hope she isn't hinting that she wants to be friends with me. Inwardly, I can't help but feel slightly insulted.

_It's not like I had many friends back before_…I stop my train of thought.

I remind myself. Friends are burdens. You have to interact with them – give and take. Friendship is complicated. There are rules you can't see-

The door bell rings, a shrill, high-pitched sound. Suzume immediately stands up and heads to the front door. I do nothing, busy thinking about my type of relationship with a certain blonde.

I vaguely hear happy voices from the direction of the house entrance. Turning slowly, I can see out into the foyer.

There is a man standing there, embracing Suzume. He has dirty blonde hair, a solid build without being too muscular and is in a police officer's outfit. I scrutinize him. He looks like someone who would impress the general female population. There was something about his eyes though. Something...hidden.

A quiet rustle alerts me and I whip my head around to see Deidara staring dolefully at the man. He takes his hand off the handle of the door and stands there. Hatred is burning in his eyes as he watches the man kiss his sister.

"Is that Hideo?" I ask in a flat tone.

Deidara is silent, staring, eyes now completely dull as Suzume kisses Hideo back. His face darkens into angry scowl. A strange looks comes into his eyes. As if a thought had suddenly dawned on him. He turns back to the sliding door, opens it and slams it hard. I see Suzume and Hideo jerk apart to stare in my direction. From their point of view, they can't see Deidara. I curiously watch him.

"Danna!" exclaims Deidara, a little too loudly.

I blink. He signals for me to play along. I sigh inwardly.

"Hmm? How was your walk?" I cringe at how fake I sound.

"It was horrible, un." Deidara manages to make loud sniffling noises while gagging in disgust at his actions at the same time.

I fight to keep a straight face. I try to sound as concerned as possible. "What happened?"

More sniffling noises. "This girl just came up to me and _threatened_ me with a gun!"

I hear Suzume gasp and two sets of footsteps clattering on the tiled floor towards us. Deidara has a maniacal grin spreading across his face. Just as Suzume and Hideo step into the room, he acts.

Deidara flies at me, long blonde hair streaming out behind him. His arms latch around tightly, pulling me into a tight embrace. I freeze, rigid and eyes wide. Looking down at the mass of blonde tendrils, I am surprised to find this feeling not entirely unpleasant. I unconsciously raise my own arms and they slide over his back until they cross, locking him in. He buries his head in the crook on my neck and I feel a hot blush sneak up my face. He makes a half-strangled sound – a laugh and sob at the same time.

"It was so scary!" whimpers Deidara. More all-too-fake sobbing noises.

I feel his shoulders shaking with laughter (or sobs from Suzume's and Hideo's point of view) and he presses closer to my neck in an effort to keep the giggles in. His lips brush against a sensitive spot and I flinch. He nuzzled down deeper, arms squeezing tighter.

The heat radiates from his body, firm and warm against my own. I can't help but feel strangely content. I drop my head onto his shoulder, sighing with eyes closing, lost in the moment. I feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. I know my own is thumping faster than usual. His hair smells sweet, floral and fresh. I draw him closer, cautiously running my hands along his back. I almost wince when I feel how pronounced his ribs are. Deidara shivers and gives a soft sigh.

"Danna…" he murmurs huskily, a small hint of a sigh laced in the word.

He pulls away, but stops, cerulean eyes like pools, slowly sucking me in. His mouth is slightly open, the look in his eyes different from before. There's realization and raw longing, woven in the threads of those blue irises. This isn't a trick anymore. This…this is…real.

He leans forward, carefully, slowly. Everything has vanished, as if all our senses have zoned in and then heightened to what is happening right now. His arms slip up across my chest and encircle my neck. My breathing hitches ever so slightly. My arms drop to his waist. So close now. His warm breath fans over my face and my heart leaps, beating faster and faster. I see his delicately parted lips, half-closed eyes, pale skin, each long eyelash…

A cough cruelly brings us back to reality. Suzume's eyelid is twitching and she gives me a sour look. Hideo looks shocked and his face is stony. He attempts a strained and weak smile. Deidara suddenly backs away from me, expression unsure and confused. Feeling much the same myself, I know my face is flushing red. Violently.

Deidara makes a small sound and gestures for me to follow him out the door. Grateful, I swiftly leave the awkwardly silent room.

**

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**

NORMAL POV

Sasori joined Deidara on the verandah stairs. Deidara was still refusing to look at him, face turning red every time he did. They watched Jasper sniff around the garden, occasionally pausing at the odd patch of weeds.

Sasori decided to try and restore normal conversation. "So…"

Silence. Then-

"Are you mad at me?" asked Deidara, still refusing eye contact.

Sasori started. "What?"

"Do you hate me now?"

"…no."

It was Deidara's turn to be surprised. "Huh?"

"I. Don't. Hate. You," Sasori said, articulating each word.

Deidara hesitated. "Why?"

"Why should I?"

Deidara mumbled something incomprehensible. It sounded vaguely like, "_I tried to kiss you__."_

"I don't have super hearing."

"I tried to…" Deidara struggled to say the word loudly. "…_kiss_ you."

Sasori ignored his now hammering heart and replied with a shrug. "And?"

Deidara looked at him incredulously. "You don't mind?"

"Should I?"

The blonde fell silent. He turned to Sasori, asking him tentatively. "Do you…Are you okay with that?"

Sasori stared at him steadily. He examined his every feature, bright, hopeful eyes, feminine face, lustrous, golden hair, delicate yet firm figure…Sasori couldn't deny the aching feeling in his chest area, almost tugging him towards the blonde. Then there was a nagging voice in his head, whispering and sighing. And that personality, almost pleading to be figured out, quirky and yet still hidden, waiting to be found. Sasori gave up.

"What do you think?"

And without giving Deidara time to answer, Sasori leant forward and grasped the back of Deidara's neck and jerked him in sharply, crashing lips.

Initially surprised, but quickly shrugging it off, Deidara happily responded. Sasori's tongue slipped out, gently prying Deidara's lips apart. Deidara found his mouth invaded by a moist, hot tongue. It slid through every corner and edge, exploring the deliciously hot cave. He moaned as he felt his tongue being sucked, slow and sensuous.

Breaking away, Deidara immediately turned red. He spun around and sat facing the wall next to him. His ears looked as if someone had dyed them red. Sasori smirked, confused but pleased nonetheless. It wasn't like him to act on impulse. Actually, he never acted without thinking. But it had felt so _good_. It had just happened and he wasn't in control anymore. Sasori frowned. He _didn't_ like not being in control.

A smile grew on his lips. He _did_ like the results.

**

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DEIDARA POV

I sneak up a quick peek at Sasori. He is staring at the deep green hedge, lost in thought. I know my face is hot and burning red. Turning back to the wall, I resist the incredible urge to smile again. Inside, I feel like a shaken soda can – ready to burst at any moment. I can't believe how damn good I feel. I will my heart to slow down.

Perhaps I'm dreaming? Or maybe I've finally gone crazy? My mind starts to throw up possible reasons for why this happened. It's just too good to be true. Especially for someone like me. Good things are just not possible in my world. The only time something good happens is so karma can come and rip it away from me again. It's a fact I've come to accept. I learnt not to hope. And yet, I still do.

Abruptly, my heart drops to my feet and dread falls over me. I look at my gloved hands. I can hear the strain of my heart against my ribs, the throbbing of the scar. The wave of reality crashes down, bringing the stupid hope I failed to resist. I feel as though someone has wrenched out my heart and stomped on it. And it hurts.

I bitterly clench my fists. Something always goes wrong. Every time a star explodes; a mass of light and heat released in an exhilarating display; a black hole is left in its wake. That's always how my life has been. The vicious cycle, twisted, unbreakable. Why should this be any different?

And in this case, the black hole is _me._

"So…" starts a lazy voice. "Does that answer your question?"

I say nothing. I'm afraid to say anything.

"Do I need to repeat my answer?"

I shake my head wildly, my hair stinging the side of my face. Oh damn. I feel another rush of heat rising up.

"Are you mad?" asks Sasori sharply. I can almost feel the uncertainty rolling off him.

"No…" Yes actually. At myself.

"Are you in shock?" I can hear the smirk behind the words.

"Yes." For more reasons than one.

"Why?" It's not a question. It's an order.

"I have my reasons, un."

"Still a stubborn brat, huh?"

I snap out of my melancholy. I am grateful. We're back in familiar territory. "You're the one prying."

"May I ask as to _why_ you hugged me in the first place?"

"I guess I should've warned you, un," I say thoughtfully. "You still seemed to like it though."

Sasori scowls. It's definitely familiar territory. It's strange how relieved I feel.

"You see, as I have been doing my research and shit about Hideo," I begin dramatically. "I discovered…"

I paused to see if he was interested. He yawned. I growled.

"Carry on."

"Fine. Hideo dislikes homosexuals. Dislike being the understatement of the year."

"Would you look at that? The esteemed police officer is not so perfect after all."

"You tell me. I know he's nice to me, but he hates my long hair. That and the fact I look like a girl, un." I cross my arms over my chest. "To him, it automatically makes me gay."

"You are," comes the snide reply.

"You don't know that, un," I answer feebly.

"I didn't see you fight off the kiss just then."

"Because…it would be rude, un?"

"I think, dare I say it, you _enjoyed _yourself. I'd say the funny little noises are enough proof."

"Okay, so I'm gay. You are too you know, un."

"No, really? It would've never occurred to me." Sarcasm.

"So you…" Hesitation. "…like me?"

"No, I kissed you because I absolutely hate you." More sarcasm.

Would I be lying if I said I could hear angels singing with joy in the background? Yet once again, my happiness plummets. There's a limit to how many ups and downs in 5 minutes, someone can have isn't there? I stare at my gloved hands. He'd hate me if he knew. That and the…incident.

"I might not exactly be who you think I am, un," I say. There, that wasn't too bad.

"Does it matter?"

"No. I mean yes," I say quickly.

"You'll always be Deidara to me. Excuse the cliché words."

"You don't get it- "

"I won't care if you change, brat."

"But that's the problem- "

"There is no problem. I can deal with basically anything."

"You're not getting the point- "

"I'm pretty sure I am."

"No, just listen to me- !"

"I've already been through plenty of shit. I can handle anything you've got to throw at me."

I almost scream from frustration. "You just don't _get it!_"

Sasori stops.

I take a deep breath. "You said I'd always be Deidara. But you haven't seen the real _Deidara.__"_

Sasori starts to interrupt but I silence him with a glare. He has to know. I don't want to be played like a puppet with an unseen flaw. Not brought high in hope, just to be sent plunging down and smashed against cold hard truth. I've been broken enough, why go looking for more?

"You have no idea about me, what I did, who I am. I won't _be _changing. All anyone can see now is the façade. Do you think I'm really like this, un?"

He says nothing.

"Why do you think I have no friends? Because I choose not to?" I challenge.

"Antisocial perhaps?"

"Do I look like an antisocial person to you?" I snap angrily.

A slight breeze threads through my hair and I shiver.

"It's because I have secrets. Everybody has them. But mine are _different._ My secrets consume me from the inside out, every day and night. Secrets that cast me out as an oddity, a freak of nature. Secrets that would make you reel back in horror and turn everyone away from me. Secrets I bury deep inside and try to forget."

He is silent. My breathing has quickened and my words just poured out like an endless river. Angry words, reckless words, helpless words. Mixed in a hopeless tangle of hidden secrets. The normal rhythmic thumping of my heart is gone, replaced with a fast, erratic pounding.

_Secrets that would destroy me if they ever clawed their way out_.

I know I am vulnerable now, I know I am baring my soul. But I don't stop. I can't stop. I'm in a furious, frenzied effort to let the words flow out in a torrent, desperate to make him understand, to tell him not to hurt me because I already hurt too much.

"My life is just one big, destroying secret. Just one mistake after the other. My whole life is one ugly _mistake_"

My eyes are burning, but nothing falls. I gave up crying a long time ago. I've already been bled dry, countless times. I hate how pitiful I seem, like a pathetic child. I stare at the hard wooden steps, studying the grain and texture. They're so perfect, but worn and smooth. I wonder if that's how my life will become. Stepped on, walked on, so many times I become like a lifeless plank of wood. Where nothing sticks and everything falls off.

Suddenly I feel cold pressure on my side, pulling me firmly. I flinch when the grip tightens. Warmth spreads from my left side, where the human, unnatural contact is. My head is resting on a shoulder with red strands of hair tickling my nose. The previous agitation is gone and I almost snuggle into the embrace. Suddenly I sit up and struggle to push myself away.

"Weren't you listening to what I said, un?" I hiss weakly.

Sasori doesn't look at me, simply pulling me closer to him. His firm embrace is comforting, reassuring. But I refuse to be lulled into such a lie.

"Don't. I don't want to be- "

He silences me with a finger, pressed against my lips. My eyes are wide, staring down at the slender finger, as he finally turns to look at me. His expression unnerves me. It doesn't belong on his face. It's never been on his face. It shouldn't be on his face. Not for me. Serenity.

"Why don't you take a chance?" he murmurs.

"I know from experience, un," I reply.

"Then it's time for change isn't it?"

I give up. There's no point. The words, 'resisting is futile' have never been truer. I hand him my heart, as weak, guarded and pitiful it is; it's with him now. All I can do is pray he doesn't break it.

I feel…peace. And after years of fear and struggle, it's more than welcome.

**

* * *

**

SASORI POV

Shit, I can't believe I just did that. Akasuna Sasori, apathetic, cold sadist, giving comfort. I see my already severely abused reputation twitch and die. Maybe it was time for a new one though. Preferably relatively the same, but perhaps a little less on the apathy.

The feeling of another body, close to mine was good. Very good.

I lean my head against the boy next to me and savor the moment.

**

* * *

**

NORMAL POV

Two eyes watched the pair. His face was etched in an angry scowl. Stepping back into the shadows of the room, he closed the heavy curtain and massaged his temples tiredly.

"My dear," he called. "What do you think about Deidara's friend?"

She came into the room, glancing this way and that. "He seems nice. Sasori is quite polite and well-mannered."

"Hmmm," droned the man. It really was too bad that his wife was fond of Deidara.

He grimaced. He would have to break Deidara slowly, without causing suspicion. A smile crept in at the corner of his lips. This should be fun.

It was unfortunate that Sasori had relatives in high places. The kid had been through so much, it seemed like a waste not to see how far you could push him. Ah well. He mustn't be greedy.

The man turned to his wife, dirty blonde hair catching the light filtered through the window. He gave her a reassuring smile and dreamed of when the two of them could be alone together.

No pyromaniac blonde or their red-headed lover. Only then could he be happy.

"I think he seems like a good friend for Deidara too, Suzume dear."

Suzume smiled happily at him.

**

* * *

**

Two eyes watched the pair. The ringed eyes stared at them intently, studying them. Finally bringing the binoculars down, the older teen fingered one of his many piercings. His high-strung chestnut horse snorted, tossing his head.

"So what do you think?" asked a blue haired girl.

He didn't reply, still thinking about the pair. The wind rustled the dry grass atop the elevated field, overlooking the rich part of the city. A cloud's shadow passed over them, momentarily shrouding them in a patch of darkness and cold air.

"They are interesting," he finally said.

The girl dipped her head in acknowledgement. "The redhead has an extensive history with puppets, highly advanced traps and a wide understanding of poisons. He even creates his own."

The boy signaled for her to continue.

"He also has a troubled past, coming from a hard family life and then a major incident. He currently resides at the Isadale Psychiatric Hospital. His only other relative is Chiyo, an elder."

"And the blonde?"

"He is well-known for his pyromania, often creating bombs of different scale. The bombs are sculpted from clay in the shape of animals and then filled with his own explosive mixture. They are designed to explode on contact. He wears gloves, possibly to conceal some sort of mutilation or deformity. He is an isolated figure, hardly any friends or friendly human contact before being placed in the psychiatric hospital."

"Good," muttered the boy. He turned his ringed eyes to the girl.

"Konan, these people may be useful to us. Begin to formulate plans on bringing them to us."

"Yes." She tipped her head in respect and turned her horse to gallop out of sight.

"She does well infiltrating the police information database," murmured Pein, sweeping another glance across the field.

He wheeled away and cantered off.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **Yay. The end of the troublesome chapter. It took me a week to write – cutting and pasting, deleting and adding, editing and reediting. I'm deviating quite a lot from the original plan, but I guess there are many ways to the finish line, huh?

Anyway, I don't think I've quite gotten the hang of my previous first chapters' style back yet. But I'm working on it. Oh and I also just realised how OOC the people are going. I will do my best to curb in the OOCness as much as possible. Bear with me while I work on it. XD

Please take the time to review. I particularly would appreciate feedback and opinions on this chapter. Thank you in advance.


	10. Peekaboo Strange Guy

**Disclaimer: **I only own this story – Kishimoto owns Naruto and everything within it

**A/N: **I suck don't I? Such a long wait. I'm so sorry everyone.

**Special Note: **This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend camisadodownpour, as I have promised this chapter to her if she would do her assignment. Really. Must I take such drastic measures to ensure you work? But still, you have been a very patient friend (or I'm just lazy...possibly both). I love you to itty-bitty pieces and wouldn't trade you for the world. I could say a whole lot more sappy things, but I doubt you'd want them all over the web. XP

**Warnings: **This chapter contains profanity, S&M references, shonen-ai ...etc (-- I couldn't resist the S&M...for those who don't know what it is...beware. XP)

* * *

SASORI POV

We go back inside to find the house deserted. I look around.

"Where is everyone?"

Deidara snorts. "Hideo is probably throwing a hissy fit about how his future stepson is gay, un."

I can't help but smirk at that. "He'll have to deal with it, won't he brat?"

He shoots me a dirty glare. "Am I doomed to forevermore be known as brat, un?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, but pads over to the refrigerator. He throws open the freezer and digs through the frozen food items. Emerging with a tray of ice, he closes the freezer and tips the tray upside down, shaking it lightly.

"I think you'll have to break it."

He shrugs and smashes it into the marble bench top, sending bits of ice spinning across the surface and broken plastic tumbling to the floor. I wince. That was loud.

"Yum, un," says Deidara, popping an ice cube in his mouth.

I stare disbelievingly. "Ice, yum?"

"It's a free country, un."

"But you're a pyromaniac and you like eating ice?"

"Are there laws against it?"

"Possibly the laws of nature."

"Want one, un?" He holds out the tray.

"I'll pass."

"Had fun boys?"

The hairs on the back my neck bristle and I can see from Deidara's expression that the intruder isn't Suzume. I turn around to see Hideo leaning in the doorway.

"We _were_, un," says Deidara.

Hideo ignores the hint. "Suzume thinks you should be going back now."

"You mean that's what _you _think, un," says Deidara under his breath.

"What was that, _Dei_?"

Deidara's head snaps up furiously. "Don't call me that!"

"Fine, _Deidara."_

"We should get your artwork, Sasori," Deidara says, ignoring him. Then he adds, "The one that I _gave_ to you, un. The one that I really, _really_ love, even though I gave it to you."

Feeling rather amused, I allow him to grab my arm in an almost clinging manner and drag me away. Hideo moves clear out of our way.

"Disgusting filth," he mutters, almost too quiet to hear.

Deidara freezes and I feel his grip tighten painfully. I have the incredible urge to smash Hideo's handsome face in.

"Did you say something?" asks Deidara politely. Only a fool would be oblivious to the underlying rage.

"No, no," smiles Hideo with a sickeningly cheerful smile. "Make sure you're ready soon."

"You're not taking us are you?" asks Deidara, not bothering to hide his dislike.

"Oh no, Suzume will be." Again, with the sickeningly happy smile.

Deidara gives a soft sigh of relief and pulls me away. I cast a backward glance at Hideo and see that his face has darkened into an angry scowl.

"You know," I say, as we reach his bedroom door. "I could almost feel the hate radiating off the both off you."

"Good, un," replies Deidara, retrieving and handing me the clay figurine carefully.

I hold it in my cupped hands. I can't stop myself examining the intricate details all over again.

"Are you sure you don't want the explosive mixture, un?" asks Deidara hopefully. "In case you change your mind?"

"Yes I'm sure," I say dryly. "We shouldn't keep him waiting. Let's go."

"The longer we stay, the longer he has us 'filth' defiling his house, un," retorts Deidara. "Are you that eager to go back to the prison?"

"No, I just don't like keeping people waiting," I say absent-mindedly. I run my fingers over the beak and wonder how he made all the tiny little details. I still can't believe he was going to blow it up. I'm rather proud of myself for managing to save such a masterpiece.

He turns to look for more artworks, carefully placing the selected ones on the shelf. A spider, an owl, a centipede…

"You should be a little more careful around him," I warn.

He groans. "Why does everyone think I'm stupid?"

"Well, the little hug and almost-kiss, along with the grabbing and clinging of my arm didn't exactly show your remarkable intellect. Especially when you're doing all this right in front of him."

"So?"

"Looked like you were provoking him, brat."

He gives me a strange look. "What else would I be doing, un?"

"…you're missing the point."

It is becoming dark outside, with the sun half-way through setting. Golden and orange streaks adorn the horizon, highlighting the clouds in pink and purple, fading into the darkness of night. I watch the city lights flash by, blurring into a series of coloured stripes. A sense of fatigue has fallen over the occupants of the car. Nobody moves. Nobody says anything.

I hold the clay bird in my lap, rubbing my thumb along the ridges and valleys. I turn to stare at Deidara, his blonde hair shimmering softly in the artificial glow. His eyes are unfocused, glassy and empty. He is expressionless, reflection faint in the glass.

Casting my gaze out the window again, I freeze, eyes widening. I blink furiously, squeezing my eyes shut and then quickly scanning the view out the window. There is nothing there now. But the image is burned into my mind. A pair of ringed eyes. Cold, calculating and staring deep into my own as if staring right through me.

A tingle runs down my spine. I hear the faint sound of thumping and wonder if it's my heart or something from outside. Perhaps someone is trailing me?

I scold myself. What the hell am I thinking? Since when did I become so paranoid?

Glancing back out the window, the scenery has changed to rolling mounds of countryside. Not that you can see much in the darkness anyway.

"Almost there," says Suzume.

I peer out into the black shrouding the area. I can see a faint light up ahead. I'm guessing that's the hospital. Or prison, if you want to be more realistic. Either way, that's where I'll be stuck until they figure I'm sane enough to function as a normal human being in a normal human environment. Fat chance.

A sudden jerk brings me back to the present. I hear the click of seatbelts being released.

"Welcome home, danna," says Deidara in a mournful tone.

We stumble out of the car and up the steps into the building. The receptionist greets us and Shizune appears at the doorway to the ward. I start to Shizune, pausing to look back at Deidara. He stands there, not quite sure of what to do.

"...bye Suzume," he says and turns to me, expression somewhat blank.

"I'll see you later, Dei," calls Suzume.

We follow Shizune back and enter the maze of corridors. Deidara's gaze is cast down and he is frowning.

"Did you have fun?" asks Shizune, oblivious to the mood.

Deidara grunts in reply as we arrive at the cafeteria. I immediately turn left and head inside my room. Deidara stands there, watching Shizune leave hurriedly, scolding Gaara who tried to sneak away a fork.

I sigh. "Do you want to come in?"

Deidara doesn't say anything but merely walks through my door, held open at my invitation.

"Something wrong?"

He shoots me an annoyed glance. "What do you think, un?"

"Do elaborate."

"Can't you just figure it out yourself?"

"I let you in for company, not to be in the presence of a moody effeminate boy."

He scowls. "I'll get enough jabs in at my looks later thank you."

"Ah, Hideo."

"You seemed fine before."

"Tch, it's starting to sink in now. If I want my sister to be happy, I'm stuck with Hideo. If I want to be happy...my sister won't be. It's a lose-lose situation, un."

"You have plenty of options."

"No I don't."

"Well, if you would only consider them."

"You know I won't."

"Then it's your problem."

"Typical. You're still your uncaring self, un."

"What, did you think I would change just for you?"

"Maybe."

I laugh. "Don't keep your hopes up too high."

He grumbles. "Maybe I should think about accepting that horse-girl person's offer. Since no one cares about me here, un."

I'm instantly an alert. "What horse girl?"

"The one who nearly killed me back when I went for a walk."

He must have noticed my disbelieving look, as he shrugged dismissively.

"I'm still alive aren't I? Stop worrying, un."

"I wasn't worrying."

"Keep telling yourself that, danna."

Trudging to the kitchen, I yawn and find myself wondering where Deidara is. I can't seem to find my previous awkwardness. Seating myself at my usual table, I warily glance to Naruto, settled nearby. He's staring at Sasuke with an enraptured expression. Sasuke ignores him, choosing to stare out the window instead.

"Hi danna!"

I wince at the happily obnoxious voice. Why did I have to choose to pair up with a morning person?

Deidara waves from his position in the corridor. I stare. I refuse to demean my dying (or quite possibly already dead) reputation any further. Sasori Akasuna does not wave. No way.

Oh what the hell. I raise my hand in defeat as a smile stealthily sneaks its way up onto my usually scowling face. Love is blind I suppose. And so would all my school friends be, if they could see the ridiculous attitude coming over me.

...that is, if I had any school friends. Which I'm pretty sure I don't.

"Why are you so happy?" I ask, resisting the urge to tell him to stop smiling. I shouldn't be a hypocrite.

"Is it a crime?" replies Deidara cheerfully, depositing himself in a chair.

"No, but I might catch it."

"You make that sound like a bad thing, un."

"Trust me. It is," I assure him.

"Fine," grumbles Deidara, instantly dropping the smile. His blank face and vividly blonde hair don't go well together.

"...you washed your hair today?" I ask in a flat tone.

"What, is that a crime too?"

"No, unfortunately no. Why do you keep asking that?" I ask irritably.

"Why are you using an accusing tone, un?" counteracts Deidara.

My lips twitch as I notice his expression hasn't changed at all. I scowl inwardly. I used to be proud of my own poker face.

"You're a brat, you know that?" I tell him.

"Likewise, you're a failure at communication, un," says Deidara mildly. "Oh, hello Itachi. Good morning?"

"It will be soon," says Itachi secretively, as he starts setting out the cutlery.

I raise an eyebrow. "The unexcitable Itachi predicts a good morning? I thought you were on my side."

He shrugs. "Being unpredictable makes people interesting."

I glare at him. "Isn't this the part where you deny your betrayal and assure me that you're on my side after all?"

He looks at me funny. "...no."

"Fine. Today and its contents hate me," I declare.

"I'm not a content!" protests Deidara indignantly. He points to himself and pulls a pouty face. "I thought you loved me!"

"In case you're wondering, I did not proclaim my undying love for Deidara yesterday," I say matter-of-factly to Itachi who looks slightly confused. I ignore Deidara as his pouting lip juts out further.

"I would've guessed you had more dignity than that," Itachi agrees, setting down two plastic cups.

"But he did kiss me, un!" says Deidara enthusiastically, instantly brightening.

"...and I stand corrected," deadpans Itachi.

"I feel abused," I mumble.

"There's always a first time. Which is generally hardest," says Itachi in an almost comforting voice. Well, as close to comforting as a cold murderer can sound.

"And that gives me exactly what to look forward to?" I ask flatly.

"Plenty more embarrassment, un," says Deidara happily. "This should be fun."

"Well, fuck you," I retort, giving him the finger.

"Itachi?" Gaara's voice rings out over the cafeteria. It cuts through all the noise, rendering the room silent.

"I want my cutlery."

ITACHI POV

I ponder what to do today, staring at the mirror on my room wall. Having free time to actually do something of personal choice is rare. But then again, I never have anything to do. Not that I could go out in public anyway. Notoriety isn't as good as it's all hyped up to be. Especially after having your face printed in the newspaper for 2 weeks straight.

The bed springs creak as I settle down on the covers. At least most of the patients had been reasonably on good behaviour. I check my watch, before reprimanding myself – I mustn't be anxious. That would be most unlike me. Still, I can't help but sneak a glance at my watch. At 2 minutes intervals, it tells me.

Sighing, I flop backwards, satisfied with the solid _thump _of my back hitting the covers. The ceiling is underappreciated, I think to myself. It's always so clean. Except for when Gaara decides to throw red paint around. It's mildly annoying when I'm the one who has to clean it off because Tsunade-sama 

insists it's a fairly hostile environment. Then Naruto would pipe up about why blood couldn't be blue, so it'd be a peaceful colour and everyone would be happy. Of course, he's promptly taken down by a scathing remark by Sasuke.

"Was I ever a child?" I ask myself, aloud.

What a silly thing to do. Talking to yourself in a psychiatric hospital. An ex-patient too. I suppose a few vestiges of insanity remain in me. What a pleasant thought.

I abruptly sit up as yelling shatters through the calm atmosphere. It figures; you can't hope for peace around here. Optimism doesn't get you anywhere in this hospital. After all, I'm the one who has to clean up all the messes.

I crack open my door, just in case Sasuke may have gotten around to carrying out his threats. Once I'm sure no garrotting wires are about to slice me to pieces, I quietly make my way down the hall.

Peering into the Recreation room, I am greeted by a rather amusing scene. Or you could call it blackmail.

"Having fun?" I smirk.

Deidara jumps off Sasori as if electrocuted, stumbling back in the manner of a deer caught in the headlights. He stares at me and then glances to Sasori, a red flush quickly spreading up his face.

"Nothing happened, un!" says Deidara in a panicky voice.

"You never cease to amaze me, brat," drawled Sasori, looking very comfortable, seated on the couch.

Deidara whips his head around to glare hotly at Sasori. "And what does that mean, danna?"

"You were happy enough to yell out the whole Sasori-loves-me thing at breakfast, but you're afraid of sharing a kiss now?" asks Sasori, raising an eyebrow. "And in front of an obvious gay boy too..."

"Are you certain of that, Sasori?" I ask, hiding my surprise. I didn't think it would show that easily...

Deidara scowls and looks closely at me. "You set a bad stereotype, un."

I resist the urge to poke his forehead. "And you shouldn't speak."

He points dramatically at me. "You shouldn't be mean to psychiatric patients! I might blow you up, un!"

"You set people on fire, not detonate them."

Deidara lifts his head, indignantly. "Are we not allowed uniqueness, un?"

"You've taken more than your share," I reply.

"Should I set you on fire now, un?"

"And your fire-tools are where?"

Deidara pulls a face as he shoves his hand deep into his pockets then hastily pulls his pants back up with the other hand. A triumphant expression plasters itself across his face as he draws out a plastic bag, filled with a white powder.

"Drugs?" asks Sasori, looking surprised. "Where'd you get those from?"

Deidara glares at him. "Don't say that so loudly! Besides, it's my explosive mixture. You don't want it right now, but I'm sure you'll change your mind, so I thought I might as well bring it along, un!"

Maybe he's just incredibly blonde. I hold out my hand patiently.

"You can borrow some later, un," Deidara assures me.

I cough and stare expectantly. Sasori sighs and stands up. In a deft move, he snatches the plastic bag, much to an aghast Deidara.

"Danna!"

"You set a pretty high standard for all blondes worldwide," says Sasori matter-of-factly. He tosses the bag to me in disgust.

"Mutual agreement here," I say monotonously. I carefully pocket the bag, making note to dispose of it later.

"You should throw those in the fire," says Sasori, eying them warily.

"You must still be suicidal, danna," says Deidara cheerfully. "Explosive, remember?"

"I am not suicidal," Sasori replies harshly.

A stony silence overtakes us, Deidara looking slightly dejected. I suppose that's the difference between a high school romance and a psychiatric romance. Besides all the drama of course. And being surrounded by an almost suffocatingly gay atmosphere may have had something to do with it too...

"I don't suppose you were the one shouting?" I ask Deidara, focusing back to the original topic.

"No. He yelps," offers Sasori.

Deidara frowns at him, unwilling to say more in fear of causing offense again. He steals a quick glance at Sasori. I sigh. Such childish antics.

"You really make the perfect couple," I say sarcastically.

"And when do we get to meet your boyfriend?" responds Sasori, with equal sarcasm.

"Who told you I had a boyfriend?" I retort, feigning innocence. To myself, at the very least.

"You're just as effeminate as the blonde here. I don't see why you shouldn't have a boyfriend."

"Danna! My side, you're supposed to be on _my side_, dammit, un!" protests Deidara, jabbing his chest for emphasis.

"I suppose the voice was a little too deep for Deidara," I muse, turning to glance out of the room.

"That's a borderline insult, brat," smirks Sasori.

"Unless it turns out Deidara is male after all," I say, moving out of the room.

I try to keep my smile under control. No use enraging the already furious Deidara even further. The last I see is Sasori struggling to hold a flailing Deidara back. Or was the silencing kiss the last I saw?

Stepping into the corridor again, I turn in the general direction of the reception. I have a slight feeling I know where the shouts came from. _I mustn't be optimistic, I mustn't be optimistic…_

But the hope still rushes through me. Is that what people call a warm and fuzzy feeling? I don't think I like them very much…I take a breath from the annoyingly nauseous feeling. I cringe, my mind feeling distorted and irrational. You can't afford either in a psychiatric ward. Unless you're feeling particularly suicidal, but then you'd be a patient wouldn't you?

"Itachi-san. Are you okay?" asks a concerned voice.

I glance up to see Shizune, worriedly looking at me.

"Maybe you should take a break. You look pale," she tells me.

"He always looks pale, un," Deidara chimes in, peeking from the edge of the doorframe. He helpfully adds, "Besides, I think the colour you're looking for is more of a sallow yellow, un."

"Deidara-san, that isn't very nice," says Shizune, sternly.

"Do I need to be punished? I wouldn't mind, un," Deidara purrs, looking knowingly into the room.

I gag and Shizune pales. Though, if it's at the suggestion of S&M or the idea of using corporeal punishment, I'm not sure. The staff are surprisingly oblivious here. Except for me of course.

"You dirty whore," comes the mumbled reply.

There is a thump, sounding suspiciously like a pillow connecting solidly with a back. Deidara spins around, looking furious once again.

"You hit my hair, un!"

"You made dirty insinuations," replies Sasori's flat voice.

"Now I have to wash it!" wails Deidara.

"You can wash out your mouth while you're at it."

"Would you like to help me _wash_, danna?" says Deidara in a suggestive tone. "No, wait! Do not throw that at me!"

I heard another thump (albeit much louder than the previous one). Of course, this one sounds suspiciously like one body hitting the other. Thrashing sounds ensue. As well as some rather interesting noises… I figure it's best to distract Shizune.

"Shizune," I say, regaining control of my flip-flopping stomach. "Did you hear the shouting, perhaps 10 minutes ago now?"

Shizune taps her lips in thought. "I think there was a visitor…I'm not sure…"

My heart starts beating faster. "Was he yelling something about sharp weapons?"

She brightens. "That's it! Some kind of long rant about the sand and surf and I think something about a surfing sword…I don't remember much more. I was supervising Gaara-san and his sand. I apologise Itachi-san."

"That's fine. Thank you," I say politely, pushing down the excitement that threatens to force its way out of me.

It's strangely quiet now. Perhaps the two artists have knocked themselves out?

"Oh danna!"

"Shut the fuck up, brat!"

"You know you love me, un."

A resigned sigh. "Do I have a choice? I wouldn't want to break your pretty little heart."

You could almost see the radiance from Deidara's smile, even though I couldn't see it directly.

"But you're right of course. Bad boys need to be punished…" Sasori's voice takes a seductive tone.

"Danna?" Deidara sounds surprised. "Danna, wait, danna, what are you doing? Danna?!"

I take it as my cue to shut off. And slowly backing away sounds like a reasonable thing to do too.

I quickly make my way down the corridor, leaving behind a puzzled Shizune. I can feel the bounce in my step and frankly, I'm disgusted. I should exercise more self-control. Honestly…

My footsteps echo along the tiled floor of the reception. I stop, my breath catching in my throat. A small smile creeps across my face. I can feel my will melt away. I, dare I say it, _happily_ lean against the wall and watch as Kisame waves his sword menacingly at the reception staff who are trying in vain to calm him down.

"No, you cannot take Samehada, dammit!"

"Sir, it is forbidden to bring anything sharp enough to cut- "

"I told you! It _shave_s_, _Samehada doesn't cut!"

"But it's sharp, and it's dangerous to bring such objects into close proximity with some of our patients…"

"Samehada is not an object! It is a valuable heirloom!"

The staff hurriedly leap back as an impatient Kisame takes a wild swing at them.

"Sir! I think it's time we escort you out…"

"How about I escort myself in?" replies Kisame, roughly pushing past the stumbling staff.

He stops, catching sight of me. He raises his eyebrows.

"Was it too hard to lend a hand?"

I hold up my hands in a mock apology. "Looking after psychopathic patients does take its toll on stamina after a while."

"Not too tired I hope?" asks Kisame, devilish smile appearing.

SASORI POV

Deidara and I stealthy sneak after Itachi. In a manner I find most unlike me. Akasuna Sasori, creeping after a feminine boy with another feminine boy? Cringe-worthy.

"Danna!" Deidara whispers. "Hurry up and stop looking so day-dream-ish, un."

"I do not look day-dream-ish!" I snap and then clamp my hands over my mouth.

Deidara glances around wildly, spotting a nearby doorway. He yanks me in by the shirt and I stifle a yelp as something falls on my head. Damn being so short.

"What the fuck was that?" I whisper angrily.

Deidara snorts. "The broom, un."

"…we're in a broom closet."

"And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, un."

"And you're still the dirty one. Haven't you heard of all those broom closet escapades?"

"I must be uneducated. Teach me later, un?"

"Oh, so I _am_ the smart one?" I ask sarcastically.

"Only because you know of such dirty matters," says Deidara smugly.

Fuck him for turning my words against me.

"Why are we doing this again, un?"

"Because we are mental hospital patients who lack entertainment."

"This is kind of pathetic isn't it? This is Itachi, after all…"

"Would you like to stalk Gaara instead?"

"He has sand!"

"Well, I'm sure he'll leave you in large, easy to put back together pieces."

"Pessimism isn't healthy danna."

"Neither is optimism."

"We're losing him! Un!"

"Could you be any more conspicuous? Shut up!"

Deidara pops his head into the corridor, checking to see if the way is clear. I sigh and walk out. He glares at me.

"Can't you play along, un?"

"Don't be childish."

Deidara scowls and follows me in the general direction where Itachi was headed. I can't help but feel happy. Being in psychiatric hospital, I'd say things are as bad as they can go. Feeling happy here is a strange idea. But hey, I'm not complaining.

I stop abruptly and stagger forwards as Deidara walks into me.

"Can't you look where you're going?"

"Don't be mean!" protests Deidara. "You're very moody you know, un."

"Says the blonde who's been accused of PMSing."

Deidara crosses his arms and turns away from me. "Don't you think Hideo will be enough?"

"Would it make a difference if I said this was romantic teasing?" I say blankly.

"How about I show my appreciation through explosive romance? The artistic kind, un."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Hey, where's Itachi? Un?"

"Are you always this slow?"

I turn on my heel and turn the corner into yet another corridor. It seems familiar…I suddenly realize this is the corridor that leads to the reception. I vaguely wonder if we'd get into trouble. The staff always seems to vanish mysteriously during free time. I quicken my pace, ignoring Deidara who is mumbling half-hearted insults at my back.

I strode into the reception then stop dead. I've frozen in shock. Well aware that my mouth must be gaping open, I stare until I come to enough senses to regain my dignity. I swivel and flee back into the corridor, running into with a solid _thump_. Knocking a confused Deidara to the ground, almost falling over myself. I flail, but manage to stop myself from a possibly compromising situation.

"Ow! Danna, geez…"moans Deidara. "Couldn't _you_ look where- mmph!"

I fall on to Deidara, in a failed attempt to shut him up. Well, perhaps not _entirely_ failed. Deidara stares wide-eyed at me, stunned into silence.

"Danna, I know you want me, but- mmph!"

Impatiently, I jam my hand over his mouth, trying not to grimace. I swear, if Deidara's eyes get any bigger, they could quite possibly roll out of their sockets.

"Shut up, brat," I hiss in a low voice.

He squirms uncomfortably underneath me and I do my best to pretend there is no friction. Of course, that was hoping I had some control over my supposedly raging hormones. Which I didn't.

"Stop moving!" I grunt, trying to stand up, but keep my hand over his mouth at the same time.

Leaving me in an awkward straddle position. Deidara blinks innocently at me. I glance to the reception, hoping desperately no one is coming. I can feel a strange hotness creeping up my neck. I bite my lip nervously. My neck isn't the only place the strange hotness is going…

Pain suddenly shoots up my arm and I jerk back, landing on the tiles behind me. I glare viciously at Deidara, who stares at me triumphantly. I narrow my eyes and mouth death threats, cradling my hand.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I fume silently.

"Giving back the love, un." Deidara folds his arms smugly.

I inspect my arm gingerly, wincing as I see the bite marks. I poke the ridiculously deep indents tentatively, growling at Deidara as silently as possible.

"That's going to leave a mark you idiot."

"I'm returning the favor," retorts Deidara. He nods knowingly to my neither regions. "You've left a rather large mental scar, danna."

I blush furiously, inwardly shrinking away. This cannot be happening. I keep my eyes down, wishing I were somewhere else.

"At least I know you love me, un," smirks Deidara, grinning widely.

I pull myself up, refusing to look Deidara in the eye. I jump as a furious voice yells out behind me. I hear a choking sound and stare at Deidara. He seems to have paled.

"I know that voice," he says, in an almost fearful voice.

Curious, I motion him over and he scrambles to his feet. Together, we cautiously peer around the edge of the corridor corner. I hear a sharp intake of breath.

"It's Kisame. What is he doing here, un?" I hear Deidara say, sounding confused.

I say nothing, watching as Kisame pushes past the staff and then suddenly stops. My heart thuds loudly and I can't help but stare. Perhaps he's seen us? I contemplate the urge to run.

"Was it too hard to lend a hand?"

"Is he talking to us, un?" asks Deidara urgently. I feel him tense up, getting ready to run.

"Who is he?" I manage to ask, hopefully without moving.

"Kisame, un."

"Well, the name fits," I mutter.

Another voice answers. "Looking after psychopathic patients does take its toll on stamina after a while."

"Not too tired I hope?" asks the stranger, devilish smile appearing.

"Isn't that Itachi's voice?" asks Deidara, sounding more and more confused. "I don't get it!"

I crane my neck further around the corner and see Itachi. I'm surprised to see such a happy smile on his face. It's freakishly abnormal.

"Is he…happy, un?" asks Deidara, sounding awed. "Wait, is that a _sword?!"_

"...at least Gaara isn't here."

We both stare in amazement as Kisame slings the massive sword over his back and embraces Itachi.

"What. The. Fuck," I say under my breath.

Itachi's hands creep up behind Kisame's back and I could've sworn I saw Itachi bury his head in Kisame's chest. I see Kisame's lips moving and I can only imagine what he might be whispering. He runs his fingers gently through Itachi's hair, with some sort of tenderness I didn't think was possible. I hear Deidara give a soft sigh.

A soft voice speaks, "If we take this a little further, do you think they'd be guilty of voyeurism?"

I pale.

"Who cares? We must be fun to look at."

Kisame leans back and tilts Itachi's chin up. A feeling of incredible awkwardness comes over me and I hold my breath as they kiss.

"Danna?" says Deidara quietly. "I want a kiss too, un."

"You didn't want one fifteen minutes ago," I reply feebly.

Deidara pouts and I can't help but wish we were back in that closet.

"Coming out?" asks Itachi.

I look around to make sure he's talking to us before hoisting Deidara up and subtly using him as a boy guard. Luckily, he's as oblivious as ever.

"So I was right, wasn't I?" I remark, trying not to stare too hard at Kisame.

"You're blue, un!" blurts out Deidara, who instantly meeps and tries to hide behind me.

Kisame raises an eyebrow and looks to Itachi. "Are they always this blunt?"

Itachi shrugs. "They're mental hospital patients. What do you expect?"

**A/N: **Bah. I messed up Itachi's POV, I sound like a textbook, the words sound like something you'd find on an assignment, I've completely lost idea of their characterizations, my inner grammar Nazi isn't kicking in …etc, etc. I could blame it on the fact that I this chapter was written over a span of seven months, but I doubt that's a good enough excuse. (Did the extra 700 words make up for it? (Goal was 5000)) XD

Okay, here's the thing. You know how I haven't exactly written much lately…I've kind forgotten the plan I had for this story. If anyone can see any plotholes they'd like to see cleared up, please tell me. Same thing goes for things you might like to see happen in the story. I feel kinda muddled right now. Kind people who point out missing plot bits and plot ends that need to be tied up will be appreciated from the bottom of my muddled heart.

Have I learnt my lesson? –chants 'no slacking' mantra-

(And I must say I agree with sorafan08….SasoDei has become overly popular. I must shield myself from the fangirls!)


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